HOM wants me to de-clutter. specifically, he wants that i should stop accumulating physical books and convert to an e-reader. BUT:
- you can't beat the thrill of a cheap thrift store acquisition,
- you can't caress a kindle the way you flip a book, and
- how do you gloat possessively over an electronic shelf?
think of it, he murmurs. a bijou apartment in our dotage, with a dinky e-pad, wherever. sans the corporeal library. the question is, whither the magic? in the palpable pages, or within their contents?
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