The nearly 30 boxes of books from my study have returned to their shelves aprés the move to New Bellevue House. Finial repatriated them at the gentle direction of Mrs Oliver, who put them in alphabetical order by height, then thickness, then atomic weight, then font size, then the author’s middle name and then according to an arcane 15th Century alchemy only she knows. Because many of volumes are from the 1700 and 1800s, they have a pungent aroma. My olfactory is among my few body parts still in fighting trim and it tells me something’s amiss. Turns out, something is.
© 2024 John Oliver
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