March 12, 2026

๐Ÿ“š The Bookstore That Opens at Night ๐ŸŒ” | Cozy Bedtime Story for Sleep & Relaxation | Soothe Anxiety

๐Ÿ“š The Bookstore That Opens at Night ๐ŸŒ” | Cozy Bedtime Story for Sleep & Relaxation | Soothe Anxiety

Step into the village evening and follow a gentle night walk to a small bookstore that opens only after dark.

In this relaxing bedtime story, we wander through softly lit streets and come across the cozy used-book store tucked between two quiet buildings. Inside, warm lamplight falls across shelves of well-loved books, visitors browse quietly, and time slows as stories wait to be rediscovered.

This calm storytelling experience is designed to help you relax, unwind, and drift into sleep while enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of a nighttime bookshop.

Perfect for:

โ€ข Falling asleep

โ€ข Relaxing at night

โ€ข Quiet moments before bed

โ€ข Fans of cozy bookstores and slow living

Let the gentle rhythm of browsing shelves, turning pages, and settling into a comfortable chair carry you into a peaceful night.


๐Ÿ’œ Follow my show for more cozy stories ๐Ÿ’œ


๐Ÿ†“ Join The Slow Life newsletter to receive your FREE Slow Morning micro-experience when you sign up.

๐ŸŒฟ Sign up โ HEREโ  ๐ŸŒฟ


๐Ÿ‘‰ READ "The Bookstore That Opens at Night" on my blog โ โ โ HERE ๐Ÿ“–โ โ โ โ 

๐Ÿ‘‰ SHOP The Slow Life โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ HERE ๐Ÿ›’โ โ โ โ โ โ โ  โ 


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Copyright Jennifer Veinot (Zwicker) 2026

#TheSlowLifePodcast #CozyStorytelling #cozypodcast #cafelistening #SlowLiving #BedtimeStory #craftingstory #RelaxingPodcast #CalmAmbience #CozyListening #potterycanada #novascotia #organizingstory #relaxingpodcast #sleepstory #slowtravel #lunenburg #soothingbedtimestory #canadianpodcast #sleepstories #creativepodcaststory #sleepstory #bedtimepodcast #sleeppodcast #gentlestorytelling #novascotiapodcast #lgbtqsleepstory #pridepodcast #lunenburgbookstore #bookstore

1
00:00:02,100 --> 00:00:07,620
Welcome to The Slow Life.
I'm Jennifer Vino and I create,

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00:00:07,660 --> 00:00:12,070
narrate, and design the
soundscape of this village of

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00:00:12,080 --> 00:00:15,840
cozy stories to relax and
unwind.

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00:00:16,880 --> 00:00:20,230
Each week I share an original
story.

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00:00:20,340 --> 00:00:25,380
Read 2 times so you can relax
even more during the second

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00:00:25,390 --> 00:00:31,760
reading.
I also create micro experiences

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00:00:31,830 --> 00:00:34,590
inspired by the stories you
hear.

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00:00:35,620 --> 00:00:40,910
These are short, gentle reading
moments designed to help you

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00:00:40,920 --> 00:00:45,790
slow down and rest in the
village for as long as you like.

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00:00:47,020 --> 00:00:52,220
They're available now to enjoy
on screen or on paper,

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00:00:52,400 --> 00:00:59,530
individually or in small bundles
through the slow life.ca under

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00:00:59,540 --> 00:01:05,560
the Shop tab.
Let's settle in with some easy

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00:01:05,570 --> 00:01:11,960
breathing at your own pace.
With each inhale, let fresh air

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00:01:11,970 --> 00:01:14,420
fill the space around your
heart.

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00:01:15,970 --> 00:01:21,860
With each exhale, feel the calm
air spread through your body and

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00:01:21,870 --> 00:01:28,630
flow out through your arms and
legs, gently in through your

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00:01:28,640 --> 00:01:36,730
heart.
Gently out through your body, in

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00:01:36,790 --> 00:01:42,470
through your heart, out through
your body.

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00:01:45,380 --> 00:01:52,880
And now let's begin.
This story is called The

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00:01:52,890 --> 00:01:58,720
Bookstore That Opens at Night,
and it's about quiet streets,

21
00:01:59,410 --> 00:02:03,210
happy dogs, and a plush green
chair.

22
00:02:06,680 --> 00:02:11,380
By the time I leave the house
for a stroll, evening has

23
00:02:11,390 --> 00:02:13,950
already settled over the
village.

24
00:02:15,550 --> 00:02:20,450
A few minutes earlier, I had
been rinsing my tea cup at the

25
00:02:20,460 --> 00:02:25,730
kitchen sink when I saw my
neighbor and her dog starting

26
00:02:25,740 --> 00:02:28,310
out on their final walk for the
day.

27
00:02:30,040 --> 00:02:33,980
It made me want to be owed under
the glowing lights too.

28
00:02:35,710 --> 00:02:38,460
The streets are quieter at this
hour.

29
00:02:38,930 --> 00:02:44,770
Cars pass now and then, but the
usual daytime rhythm has slowed.

30
00:02:46,490 --> 00:02:51,890
A few windows are lit softly
along the way, their curtains

31
00:02:51,900 --> 00:02:57,200
drawn for the evening.
I see a couple of others who

32
00:02:57,210 --> 00:03:00,560
have their dogs out now.
When there are fewer

33
00:03:00,570 --> 00:03:08,070
distractions, I find myself on a
side street where up ahead a

34
00:03:08,080 --> 00:03:13,340
warm light spills from a store
front window onto the sidewalk.

35
00:03:15,150 --> 00:03:20,330
I'm not often out for a walk at
this time, and I smile when I

36
00:03:20,340 --> 00:03:22,980
realize where the light is
coming from.

37
00:03:24,810 --> 00:03:30,760
The bookstore that only opens at
night sits tucked between two

38
00:03:30,770 --> 00:03:36,660
darkened buildings, its windows
glowing and its sign flipped to

39
00:03:36,670 --> 00:03:43,780
open, welcoming me in.
Anyone passing by would notice

40
00:03:43,790 --> 00:03:49,190
it immediately.
From the street, it looks almost

41
00:03:49,200 --> 00:03:54,410
like a small stage set for
readers, its velvet curtains

42
00:03:54,420 --> 00:03:58,000
pulled open for this evening's
quiet performance.

43
00:03:59,450 --> 00:04:05,280
A couple walking arm in arm
approaches the door, and I hear

44
00:04:05,290 --> 00:04:09,530
one tell the other that they'd
heard about this bookstore from

45
00:04:09,540 --> 00:04:14,000
a friend who had visited the
village a few years back.

46
00:04:15,330 --> 00:04:21,100
He hoped it would still be here.
Whenever I stop by.

47
00:04:21,170 --> 00:04:25,540
A visitor wanders in after
hearing about the shop that

48
00:04:25,550 --> 00:04:30,110
opens only at night.
Curious to see it for

49
00:04:30,120 --> 00:04:37,280
themselves, I follow them in a
small bell ringing overhead.

50
00:04:39,090 --> 00:04:43,960
The air inside carries the
familiar scent of paper and

51
00:04:43,970 --> 00:04:47,960
wood.
Shelves line the walls from

52
00:04:47,970 --> 00:04:52,620
floor to ceiling, and a few
narrow tables run through the

53
00:04:52,630 --> 00:04:58,210
centre of the space, stacked
with uneven piles of books

54
00:04:58,260 --> 00:05:05,180
waiting to be discovered again.
Used bookstores always feel a

55
00:05:05,190 --> 00:05:08,530
little different from those that
sell new ones.

56
00:05:09,880 --> 00:05:13,790
The books have already lived
part of their lives somewhere

57
00:05:13,800 --> 00:05:17,340
else.
Some lean slightly on the

58
00:05:17,350 --> 00:05:21,080
shelves, as though they've
relaxed into place.

59
00:05:22,660 --> 00:05:28,350
Others are stacked 2 rows deep,
hiding for who knows how long.

60
00:05:28,360 --> 00:05:34,470
Behind the first row, a lamp
stands in the corner beside a

61
00:05:34,480 --> 00:05:39,950
comfortable chair, and another
hangs low over a table where

62
00:05:39,960 --> 00:05:46,270
several small piles have formed.
I take a slow walk down the

63
00:05:46,280 --> 00:05:52,180
first aisle, letting my fingers
drift along the softened spines.

64
00:05:53,890 --> 00:05:59,060
The books are arranged in loose
sections, though the categories

65
00:05:59,070 --> 00:06:04,520
blend easily into one another so
that wandering becomes part of

66
00:06:04,530 --> 00:06:09,850
the experience.
Travel sits beside memoir.

67
00:06:10,530 --> 00:06:13,570
History leans into nature
writing.

68
00:06:15,100 --> 00:06:20,350
I pull one book from the shelf
and open it briefly, reading the

69
00:06:20,360 --> 00:06:24,620
first few lines before sliding
it back into place.

70
00:06:26,390 --> 00:06:31,080
A few steps later, another
catches my attention.

71
00:06:32,350 --> 00:06:36,980
I carry this one with me for a
moment before setting it on a

72
00:06:36,990 --> 00:06:40,060
nearby table to start my
collection.

73
00:06:41,660 --> 00:06:47,790
The rhythm becomes simple.
A few steps, a pause, a book

74
00:06:47,800 --> 00:06:52,910
lifted from the shelf.
Soon there are two books resting

75
00:06:52,980 --> 00:07:00,030
in a growing stack on the table.
Then three near the middle of

76
00:07:00,040 --> 00:07:04,420
the shop.
A few low boxes hold comic books

77
00:07:04,470 --> 00:07:08,870
in protective sleeves.
They're colourful covers,

78
00:07:08,880 --> 00:07:16,070
standing up right in neat rows.
Someone flips through them.

79
00:07:16,340 --> 00:07:20,930
The soft sound of the plastic
sleeves marking the passing

80
00:07:20,940 --> 00:07:27,570
pages are comforting sound, like
flipping through old records.

81
00:07:29,370 --> 00:07:34,480
Beyond that, a narrow shelf
holds a row of slim essay

82
00:07:34,490 --> 00:07:39,500
collections.
I pull one free and flip through

83
00:07:39,510 --> 00:07:44,030
the pages, pausing over a
paragraph that seems

84
00:07:44,040 --> 00:07:48,800
interesting.
This one joins the others on the

85
00:07:48,810 --> 00:07:54,610
table as well.
I gather the books into my arms

86
00:07:54,840 --> 00:08:00,210
and, feeling lucky that it's
vacant, sit in the comfy plush

87
00:08:00,220 --> 00:08:04,450
green chair to have a closer
look at my pile.

88
00:08:06,340 --> 00:08:11,920
I place the stack on the small
table beside me, feeling quite

89
00:08:11,930 --> 00:08:16,760
at home.
Outside the window, the night

90
00:08:16,770 --> 00:08:22,000
has grown even darker, the glass
reflecting the warm light.

91
00:08:22,090 --> 00:08:28,830
From inside the shop, I pick up
the first book and read for a

92
00:08:28,840 --> 00:08:32,809
few minutes.
The words are pleasant, though

93
00:08:32,820 --> 00:08:35,760
my attention drifts after a
short while.

94
00:08:37,299 --> 00:08:40,789
I close it gently and place it
to the side.

95
00:08:42,370 --> 00:08:45,620
The second book holds my focus
longer.

96
00:08:46,400 --> 00:08:50,130
A few more pages pass before I
pause again.

97
00:08:51,900 --> 00:08:55,990
One by one, I move through the
small pile I've gathered,

98
00:08:56,220 --> 00:08:59,970
reading just enough to feel the
shape of each one.

99
00:09:01,460 --> 00:09:06,970
Some invite a longer stay,
others seem content to remain on

100
00:09:06,980 --> 00:09:13,410
the shelf for someone else.
Eventually two books stay in my

101
00:09:13,420 --> 00:09:17,360
lap which tells me I don't want
to let them go.

102
00:09:19,020 --> 00:09:23,500
I hear the couple had entered
the shop with asking the man

103
00:09:23,510 --> 00:09:28,540
behind the low counter with
interest why the hours are 8:00

104
00:09:28,550 --> 00:09:36,130
PM to midnight ish.
I already know the story myself,

105
00:09:36,520 --> 00:09:41,610
but can't help but hear as he
tells them this is just the time

106
00:09:41,620 --> 00:09:44,860
of day when he's not busy with
other things.

107
00:09:46,340 --> 00:09:51,530
He likes the quiet of the night
and the mystery of a bookstore.

108
00:09:51,600 --> 00:09:58,740
At this hour, I read a few more
pages from one of my choices

109
00:09:59,050 --> 00:10:03,420
than the other.
There's no rush, so I stay a bit

110
00:10:03,430 --> 00:10:07,840
longer just to notice what else
I hear around me.

111
00:10:09,210 --> 00:10:14,610
The soft movements of other
browsers continue, A book

112
00:10:14,620 --> 00:10:21,160
sliding from a shelf, the faint
rustle of pages turning, the

113
00:10:21,170 --> 00:10:26,000
quiet conversation of someone
discussing a title across the

114
00:10:26,010 --> 00:10:30,790
room.
The two books sit side by side

115
00:10:30,800 --> 00:10:36,240
for a moment while I consider
them, then I pick one up again

116
00:10:36,330 --> 00:10:38,900
and read a little farther than
before.

117
00:10:40,590 --> 00:10:43,250
I'll take them both home with me
tonight.

118
00:10:44,820 --> 00:10:50,430
Heading towards the counter, I
ran my hand along more titles,

119
00:10:50,960 --> 00:10:56,190
the chosen books feeling soft in
my hand as though they've

120
00:10:56,200 --> 00:10:59,080
already been mine since they
were new.

121
00:11:00,770 --> 00:11:06,040
I set them on the counter and he
nods as if knowing that I made

122
00:11:06,050 --> 00:11:12,390
the right choice.
We share a quiet exchange before

123
00:11:12,400 --> 00:11:16,610
I go home from the bookstore
that opens at night.

124
00:11:21,080 --> 00:11:24,020
The bookstore that opens at
night.

125
00:11:27,530 --> 00:11:32,230
By the time I leave the house
for a stroll, evening has

126
00:11:32,240 --> 00:11:34,800
already settled over the
village.

127
00:11:36,410 --> 00:11:41,300
A few minutes earlier, I had
been rinsing my tea cup at the

128
00:11:41,310 --> 00:11:46,580
kitchen sink when I saw my
neighbor and her dog starting

129
00:11:46,590 --> 00:11:49,150
out on their final walk for the
day.

130
00:11:50,890 --> 00:11:54,830
It made me want to be owed under
the glowing lights too.

131
00:11:56,560 --> 00:11:59,330
The streets are quieter at this
hour.

132
00:11:59,780 --> 00:12:05,620
Cars pass now and then, but the
usual daytime rhythm has slowed.

133
00:12:07,340 --> 00:12:12,730
A few windows are lit softly
along the way, their curtains

134
00:12:12,740 --> 00:12:18,040
drawn for the evening.
I see a couple of others who

135
00:12:18,050 --> 00:12:21,400
have their dogs out now.
When there are fewer

136
00:12:21,410 --> 00:12:28,910
distractions, I find myself on a
side street where up ahead a

137
00:12:28,920 --> 00:12:34,190
warm light spills from a store
front window onto the sidewalk.

138
00:12:35,990 --> 00:12:41,180
I'm not often out for a walk at
this time, and I smile when I

139
00:12:41,190 --> 00:12:43,810
realize where the light is
coming from.

140
00:12:45,660 --> 00:12:51,610
The bookstore that only opens at
night sits tucked between two

141
00:12:51,620 --> 00:12:57,510
darkened buildings, its windows
glowing and its sign flipped to

142
00:12:57,520 --> 00:13:04,630
open, welcoming me in.
Anyone passing by would notice

143
00:13:04,640 --> 00:13:10,040
it immediately.
From the street, it looks almost

144
00:13:10,050 --> 00:13:15,250
like a small stage set for
readers, its velvet curtains

145
00:13:15,260 --> 00:13:18,860
pulled open for this evening's
quiet performance.

146
00:13:20,300 --> 00:13:26,110
A couple walking arm in arm
approaches the door, and I hear

147
00:13:26,120 --> 00:13:30,370
one tell the other that they'd
heard about this bookstore from

148
00:13:30,380 --> 00:13:34,850
a friend who had visited the
village a few years back.

149
00:13:36,180 --> 00:13:41,960
He hoped it would still be here.
Whenever I stop by.

150
00:13:42,010 --> 00:13:46,400
A visitor wanders in after
hearing about the shop that

151
00:13:46,410 --> 00:13:50,960
opens only at night.
Curious to see it for

152
00:13:50,970 --> 00:13:58,120
themselves, I follow them in a
small bell ringing overhead.

153
00:13:59,940 --> 00:14:04,810
The air inside carries the
familiar scent of paper and

154
00:14:04,820 --> 00:14:08,810
wood.
Shelves line the walls from

155
00:14:08,820 --> 00:14:13,470
floor to ceiling, and a few
narrow tables run through the

156
00:14:13,480 --> 00:14:19,060
centre of the space, stacked
with uneven piles of books

157
00:14:19,110 --> 00:14:26,030
waiting to be discovered again.
Used bookstores always feel a

158
00:14:26,040 --> 00:14:29,370
little different from those that
sell new ones.

159
00:14:30,730 --> 00:14:34,640
The books have already lived
part of their lives somewhere

160
00:14:34,650 --> 00:14:38,190
else.
Some lean slightly on the

161
00:14:38,200 --> 00:14:41,930
shelves, as though they've
relaxed into place.

162
00:14:43,510 --> 00:14:49,200
Others are stacked 2 rows deep,
hiding for who knows how long.

163
00:14:49,210 --> 00:14:55,320
Behind the first row, a lamp
stands in the corner beside a

164
00:14:55,330 --> 00:15:00,800
comfortable chair, and another
hangs low over a table where

165
00:15:00,810 --> 00:15:07,120
several small piles have formed.
I take a slow walk down the

166
00:15:07,130 --> 00:15:13,030
first aisle, letting my fingers
drift along the softened spines.

167
00:15:14,740 --> 00:15:19,910
The books are arranged in loose
sections, though the categories

168
00:15:19,920 --> 00:15:25,360
blend easily into one another so
that wandering becomes part of

169
00:15:25,370 --> 00:15:30,700
the experience.
Travel sits beside memoir.

170
00:15:31,370 --> 00:15:34,420
History leans into nature
writing.

171
00:15:35,950 --> 00:15:41,200
I pull one book from the shelf
and open it briefly, reading the

172
00:15:41,210 --> 00:15:45,470
first few lines before sliding
it back into place.

173
00:15:47,240 --> 00:15:51,910
A few steps later, another
catches my attention.

174
00:15:53,190 --> 00:15:57,820
I carry this one with me for a
moment before setting it on a

175
00:15:57,830 --> 00:16:00,910
nearby table to start my
collection.

176
00:16:02,510 --> 00:16:08,640
The rhythm becomes simple.
A few steps, a pause, a book

177
00:16:08,650 --> 00:16:13,760
lifted from the shelf.
Soon there are two books resting

178
00:16:13,820 --> 00:16:20,870
in a growing stack on the table,
then three near the middle of

179
00:16:20,880 --> 00:16:25,260
the shop.
A few low boxes hold comic books

180
00:16:25,320 --> 00:16:29,720
in protective sleeves.
They're colourful covers,

181
00:16:29,730 --> 00:16:37,380
standing up right in neat rows.
Someone flips through them, the

182
00:16:37,390 --> 00:16:41,780
soft sound of the plastic
sleeves marking the passing

183
00:16:41,790 --> 00:16:48,420
pages a comforting sound, like
flipping through old records.

184
00:16:50,220 --> 00:16:55,330
Beyond that, a narrow shelf
holds a row of slim essay

185
00:16:55,340 --> 00:17:00,350
collections.
I pull one free and flip through

186
00:17:00,360 --> 00:17:04,880
the pages, pausing over a
paragraph that seems

187
00:17:04,890 --> 00:17:09,650
interesting.
This one joins the others on the

188
00:17:09,660 --> 00:17:15,440
table as well.
I gather the books into my arms

189
00:17:15,690 --> 00:17:21,060
and, feeling lucky that it's
vacant, sit in the comfy plush

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00:17:21,069 --> 00:17:25,300
green chair to have a closer
look at my pile.

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00:17:27,180 --> 00:17:32,760
I place the stack on the small
table beside me, feeling quite

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00:17:32,770 --> 00:17:37,610
at home.
Outside the window, the night

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00:17:37,620 --> 00:17:42,850
has grown even darker, the glass
reflecting the warm light.

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00:17:42,920 --> 00:17:49,680
From inside the shop, I pick up
the first book and read for a

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00:17:49,690 --> 00:17:53,660
few minutes.
The words are pleasant, though

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00:17:53,670 --> 00:17:56,610
my attention drifts after a
short while.

197
00:17:58,150 --> 00:18:01,630
I close it gently and place it
to the side.

198
00:18:03,220 --> 00:18:06,460
The second book holds my focus
longer.

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00:18:07,240 --> 00:18:10,970
A few more pages passed before I
pause again.

200
00:18:12,740 --> 00:18:16,830
One by one, I move through the
small pile I've gathered,

201
00:18:17,060 --> 00:18:20,810
reading just enough to feel the
shape of each one.

202
00:18:22,310 --> 00:18:27,820
Some invite a longer stay,
others seem content to remain on

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00:18:27,830 --> 00:18:34,260
the shelf for someone else.
Eventually two books stay in my

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00:18:34,270 --> 00:18:38,210
lap which tells me I don't want
to let them go.

205
00:18:39,860 --> 00:18:44,350
I hear the couple had entered
the shop with asking the man

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00:18:44,360 --> 00:18:49,370
behind the low counter with
interest why the hours are 8:00

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00:18:49,380 --> 00:18:56,980
PM to midnight ish.
I already know the story myself,

208
00:18:57,370 --> 00:19:02,460
but can't help but hear as he
tells them this is just the time

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00:19:02,470 --> 00:19:05,710
of day when he's not busy with
other things.

210
00:19:07,180 --> 00:19:12,370
He likes the quiet of the night
and the mystery of a bookstore.

211
00:19:12,440 --> 00:19:19,590
At this hour, I read a few more
pages from one of my choices

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00:19:19,900 --> 00:19:24,260
than the other.
There's no rush, so I stay a bit

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00:19:24,270 --> 00:19:28,680
longer just to notice what else
I hear around me.

214
00:19:30,050 --> 00:19:35,460
The soft movements of other
browsers continue, A book

215
00:19:35,470 --> 00:19:42,010
sliding from a shelf, the faint
rustle of pages turning, the

216
00:19:42,020 --> 00:19:46,850
quiet conversation of someone
discussing a title across the

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00:19:46,860 --> 00:19:51,660
room.
The two books sit side by side

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00:19:51,670 --> 00:19:57,080
for a moment while I consider
them, then I pick one up again

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00:19:57,170 --> 00:19:59,740
and read a little farther than
before.

220
00:20:01,440 --> 00:20:04,100
I'll take them both home with me
tonight.

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00:20:05,670 --> 00:20:11,280
Heading towards the counter, I
ran my hand along more titles,

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00:20:11,810 --> 00:20:17,040
the chosen books feeling soft in
my hand as though they've

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00:20:17,050 --> 00:20:19,920
already been mine since they
were new.

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00:20:21,610 --> 00:20:26,890
I set them on the counter and he
nods as if knowing that I made

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00:20:26,900 --> 00:20:33,230
the right choice.
We share a quiet exchange before

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00:20:33,240 --> 00:20:37,410
I go home from the bookstore
that opens at night.

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00:20:39,940 --> 00:20:42,350
I wish you sweet dreams.