There is an intimacy in reading a book that’s already been read. As if you’re tracing the ghost of someone’s thoughts, placing your hands on the pages where someone’s fingers once lingered, reading the same words that possibly moved them. Every crack on the spine, even dog-eared page, every occasional scribble of thoughts on the margins has another story to tell. The scent of the old pages carries the minds of the people who wandered through the same chapters, of hands that held it before yours. To read a used book is to read two stories at once, to inherit the remains of someone’s emotions, and to revel in the experience of someone you perhaps never knew.
How To Revive Your Rainwater Harvesting System
All RWAs know that the supply of water by the Noida Authority is never enough; the balance has to be fulfilled by boring and extracting groundwater. In the early 2000s,...
