I walked down aisle after aisle gazing at the shelves. My heart raced as I looked from one title to the next, the colours and words jumping off pages and into my head. Genres went by as I paced through the store again and again. I found my favourite section and let my fingers run over the bindings of the books both old and new. Misty River Bookstore has been one of my most treasured places on earth since I was about 13 years old. It is two doors down from my favourite coffee shop and since I had fallen in love with reading, it held countless pages that had entertained my imagination for hours, days, maybe even weeks. This place has fed my overactive daydreaming state that I seemed to be for at least half of my conscious hours. It allowed me to get lost in fantasy worlds and broken futures. The pages that I walked through showed places decimated and reborn. Things that were impossible to me were within my reach. There were even stools to reach the top shelves. I’ve spent hours in the small store looking through book after book, and, though I’m in there so often, it will forever be my favourite place to shop.