Over Christmas break, Graham and I ventured down town to an old book store we discovered last spring. I was looking for a particular book, which I found hidden away in the (very slim) Oscar Wilde section. I then proceeded to spend the rest of my time wondering through the poetry section and … possibly a small, laughable glimpse at the wildly inappropriate love novels with titles like, Love’s Secret Sniper and The Love Bum (OR perhaps His Woman) Eh? It was a dream. And I’ll tell you what, the last photo is THE dream (look at how delicately I’m touching the ladder).