ducks, dark, books

* I watch the ducks arranged in v's above. I count them pecking at the frozen grass by the lakes. And I remember Sayers:
-How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks.-

* The world is dark, and light is precious.
   Come closer, dear reader.
   You must trust me.
   I am telling you a story.

* Rustling pages, creaking steps, and the whisper of a thousand titles. The music of a bookstore.