July 27, Kinsman.
There was a sign going into town advertising "100,000 books!" so even though I still felt slightly hung over from yesterday's book buying spree I had to go and take a look.
It turned out to be a quirky overstuffed shop, called Market Square, housed in a turn-of-the-century building with a 1957 soda fountain (the owner, Don Sutton, discussed the many ways of saying soda with LeBron and me, pop in the Midwest, soda in the East, tonic in New England, fizzy in New Zealand, according to a customer who visited earlier from that country,) a wooden phone booth from the nineteen-thirties, galleries of dusty used books, various seeds in plastic jars, a basket full of smelly bulbs, rows of vitamins and pain killers and band aids along the pharmacy aisle, wall papers, old Christmas decorations, insulating material, old signs, and the bric-a-brac of the usual thrift store, true vintage added.
No comments:
Post a Comment