His work at the bookstore was calming, for the most part. It was a soothing rhythm with each day, shelving and reshelving books, selling them, or ordering rare ones for their customers. Carson liked the routine of it, each day slightly different, but the overall work of it unchanged in the decades he’d spent with the store. And Lia was doing a good job running it, leaving Carson content to spend most of his days alternating between dusting down the rarely touched back shelves and reorganizing the window displays, content to have his hands on the knowledge he so loved to share outside of his own writing. Of course, sometimes customers made his job difficult, like the one who’d been wandering and leaving stacks of books places. He’d reshelved a few quietly, but this time the set had been left at the counter when hes back was turned, and so carson broke his silence. “Were you looking to put these on hold, purchase them, or are you done with them?” // @cosmicannwnwrites