"Bookshops are infested with ideas. Books are quivering, murmuring creatures. That's what one of my business partners used to say. He was a poet, quite a clever guy (though not as clever as he thought), and likable enough. There's something to it: the three little Russian books stood there on the shelf next to the cash register for several days, murmuring, quivering, preserving her memory, but she didn't return. Those were eventful days, or rather I heard that they'd been eventful (there was a rash of lynchings in the inland villages and a coup in a neighboring country, cocaine became the world's number one illicit substance, stagnant water was discovered on Mars, and Pluto definitely lost its status as a planet), my life having shrunk once more to the ambit of books; I had become another specimen of that sad type, the bookseller with literary aspirations."
~~ from Severina by Rodrigo Rey Rosa
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