The musty smell of old books, so intoxicating, that you can almost taste it.
Pages so fragile under your fingers, like vulnerable hearts full of love.
The crisp sound on turning each time-worn, brown page,
Ageing gracefully with fading colors, creases, and marks.
Stories and lives of all the people who held it once, lingering on it.
Stirring up fond memories and warm feelings and so many emotions.