Never judge a bookstore by its cover. It may be called a bookstore, but don't be fooled by that. There may be books in the window, on the tables and shelves, but really, it's a travel agency selling all-immersive holidays, weekend breaks, first-class tickets to other worlds, with a low carbon footprint.
It's a pharmacy as well, dispensing medicines, pick-me-ups, balms: if symptoms persists, please consult your local bookseller; it's a tailor's, offering a made-to-measure service to achieve the perfect fit.
It's also a hardware store, with a range of empowering tools to fix you up, recharge your batteries, switch on lightbulbs. Its walls are lined with treasure as valuable as any jeweller's, and twice as bright. Spines shine gold, silver, sapphire, emerald; there are diamonds amongst them.
It's a garden centre, a place where ideas get planted and a thousand stories bloom, and a greengrocer, selling fresh, locally-sourced produce, as vital as your proverbial apple-a-day and more readily consumed.
As for walking in my shoes and ending up in a bookstore, that's the easy part. Spend thirty seconds in my head and you'll be really freaking out!
