We all have obsessions. People will try to tell you that they don't . Oh, no, I don't have any naughty obsessions. They watch those hoarding shows , and think to themselves, "Well, I am NOT like that." , and somewhere in the secret corners of their minds they have something they are hoarding up. Maybe it's not butter container lids, or knick knacks from the dollar store. But we all have something. With me it's books. I love them. The smell. The feel. The paper. The covers. Stacks of them. Piles of them. On the sofa, under the bed. In the bathroom, in the kitchen. In the car, in my purses. I have them everywhere. I buy them at the thrift store, the big box store, garage sales, people give them to me, like old friends long lost , they come to me with their old scuffed shoes , and I welcome them home. I never have to feel alone when I am with them. I've met the most troubled, intelligent, quirky, dark, and fun people there. I've been next door, and to the other side of the farthest , farthest galaxy, just by turning the page. And really , what better obsession is there , than that?