Last rites in London

Today was one filled with good-byes:

  • to my peers, lingering and uncertain, but appreciative nonetheless,
  • to my friends, with promises to reunite next semester,
  • to the faculty and staff, eyes pricked with gratitude.
  • and to the city I fell in love with three and a half months ago, and even long beforeΒ then.

After grabbing the last of my graded papers, I headed down to Foyles near Tottenham Court Road station.

I didn’t stay long (I was in and out to buy a gift) but I marveled at it: a bright, pulsing wealth of books whose perusers were imbued with the same sort of giddiness and passion I see from Barnes + Noble devotees.

Beyond that, it also simply looked nice for Christmas.

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In the same way that Barnes + Noble does back home, Foyles impressed me. Its grand displays of nerdiness (including a thriving graphic novel aisle) and its vast music section felt like home.

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I mean, anywhere with its own shelves full of Shakespeare is a safe space to me.

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Peep the Bard creeping on the left!

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The day ended up being filled with other errands, including packing.

The indulgence of my two main vices, books and clothes, demanded that I buy another piece of rolling luggage. And so the days of quaintly wrangling my life into a suitcase seem long behind me.

But, as you know: all is well that ends well.

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