Haven’t you always wanted a secret room behind a bookcase? Or am I weird? I don’t think so. Well, slightly so, maybe. Oh, all right, yes, I’m weird and you’re wonderful. We have a strange and unique relationship.
It’s not that I think the Nazi’s are coming and I’m Anne Frank, though that’s another story. It’s not because I’m antisocial, though I can be at times and would love somewhere to hide away and read in peace and quiet. It’s not just because I love the smell of books, old books, new books, red books, blue books even though I do. It could be just because, plainly, there are not enough walls in my house for the bookcases I need to house my library of books.