Books have the best smell. The musty smell of old books remind me of leafing through my mum’s bookshelves, discovering Wuthering Heights between the yellow pages of a Penguin paperback with her name and her school’s name inscribed in blotchy pen on the front page. But then new books smell good too – stacks of crisp white pages freshly unpacked at the bookshop, the gluey, almost almondy smell inside the spine. Any book will do.
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