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The bookshop is where you go when you don't know what you want or how you feel. There's no guarantee it has the answer, but a sudden instinct makes you step inside. 
And that's when the magic starts to happen. Books are promises: pick me up and I will change your life. Thousands upon thousands of promises, lying languid on old shelves.
Nobody bothers you as you slowly wander the shelves; poking, inspecting, curious. The jumbled mess of titles and authors, spine colours and folio sizes, suggests a world of chaotic disorder is trying to emerge.
And then you take a book, take a moment, and ponder. Maybe you people watch a little; other actors in a public theatre, posing intently with their book props.
And then a few minutes stretches to half an hour; the two or three books in your hand grow heavy, you yawn. Book browsing is exhausting, the muscles of your mind are getting tired.
You don't need it, but you buy it. Because actually you do need it. You need books in your life because being without books is like being without words. Other people graze like sheep on images. You devour ideas like a starving wolf.
For you every day is #BookshopDay. Your mind needs to eat, and only one palace hosts the feast.
Trust me, I used to run one...
Trust me, I used to run one...
