Читать книгу Confessions of a Bookseller - Shaun Bythell - Страница 44

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Opened up as usual, but as I was switching the lights on, I could hear a strange sound from the back of the shop. I followed it until I was close enough to recognise the sound of the flapping of wings and tracked it down to a starling which the accursed cat must have dragged in. It was fine, and it spent the next hour flying around the shop, evading my futile and incompetent attempts to catch it. Eventually, on the top step of a ladder and flailing around with a fishing net, I managed to get hold of it and took it outside and let it go.

The shop computer rebooted overnight, and now Monsoon won’t open, so I have no idea if we had any orders. My email to Monsoon requesting assistance was pinged back.

After work I lit the fire in the snug. Looking through my enormous ‘To Be Read’ pile in the snug, I spotted a copy of The New Confessions, by William Boyd, which a friend had given me years ago. I can’t imagine it being quite as perfect as Any Human Heart, but decided to give it a go.

Till Total £14.30

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