Subject: Buying books and meeting new people Where: A bookshop in London, backdated to a week ago Who: Jacques Belmont Warnings: None Open to: Charles Hurst, anyone else who might be there
Jacques was more than relieved to find that bookshops were the same the world over. You always knew where you were in bookshops, just by picking a volume off the shelf and leafing through it. True, the books were in English instead of French and Shakespeare replaced Moliere and Racine, but the sun cast the same dusty shadows on the floor, the light dimmed by shelf after shelf after shelf.
There was something very comforting about bookshops. You could find nearly anything you wanted to know about, with only a little effort on your part, and were free to roam wherever your interests and the shop owner let you. Jacques slid off a slim volume of Shakespearean sonnets and began reading.