There are only two kinds of books that are truly loved - those pristine and undamaged, and those which look like they’ve been through the apocalypse
There are only two kinds of books that are truly loved - those pristine and undamaged, and those which look like they’ve been through the apocalypse
Okay, and where is throwing the book aside and remembering the page, and when you inevitably forget where you were, just starting from the last place you vaguely remember?
“Previously on… Or wait, does this sound familiar? Did we jump forward instead?”