I can’t wait to read The Book while on vacation.

The Book is currently resting on my bedside table.

And it is real.

Velveteen Rabbit real.

Pages waiting to be crinkled,

perhaps even potentially spilled on.

That scent.
How does one define the scent of a new book?

Hope?

Adventure?

There is even a sound.
Swish.
It is the turning of the pages –
the sound of accomplishment.

       I bought The Book in my favorite local bookstore.
It is the bookstore I have rifled through since I was a child.

It changed locations, and grew in size.
It later shrunk back down in size due to the
ever tenacious competition, technology.

I love the folded tent notes atop a pile of a novel, handwritten,
expressing why this one is a favorite of an employer or maybe two.

I love watching fellow literary enthusiasts of all ages rifle through the books,
a complete sensory experience.

I will pack The Book tonight.

Gently.

My adventure within my adventure begins.