bookshops.
libraries.
i don't have the time to read that often or to truly comprehend the classics. but i try once in a while despite my preponderance to procrastination.
last month i left a shoulder bag containing my handy Virginia Woolf tome in John Lewis food court near Kingston. my friend Honey was able to retrieve the bag but haven't seen her since that day of croissants, Hampton Court gardens, photo shoots in the park. the book is still waiting to be finished.
in the meantime, i'm scanning the gossip pages of the daily free newspaper or i could regale myself with the words of Charlotte Bronte in Shirley and make a valiant effort to stop the addictive habit of scouring the Internet with no specific sense of purpose.
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