Like tumbling ivy gripping the walls of an old country house, they gather vehemently in every corner, expanding almost exponentially as the weeks pass by. Some are scattered, others are arranged neatly and lovingly, while some peek from the corners, urging to be noticed, absorbed and cherished.
Books. Lots of books. Hundreds of page turners, one hit wonders, classics et al fill the tiny space that is my bedroom. The one bookshelf that sufficed many, many years ago now suffering under the weight of its literary oppressors. Over the years I have acquired a hefty collection of reading material which now begs to be housed in the most delectable of surroundings.
I love a good bookshelf. I’d love a good bookshelf. Any one of these take your fancy as much as they steal mine?