While running some errands the other day, I decided to drive by the former Schwartz's Bookstore in Shorewood.
The windows were covered over with brown paper and someone was on the ladder, I believe, taking down the bookstore sign.
Even though the site seemed dreary, I could smell the former bookstore's coffee aromas in my mind. Feeling the urge for coffee and books, I continued driving to the Downer bookstore. It was closed and being remodeled.
The people in Starbucks next door didn't seem the bookish types. Their mannerisms as I viewed them indicated that they'd have more interest in baseball than discussing world affairs.
I decided to continue with my program of errands instead, so I drove on.
I wouldn't have believed that I'd miss my visits to the bookstore in Shorewood, have coffee and read a newspaper there so soon after its closing. I usually expected that when I was there, that I might talk to someone in passing. I often had interesting conversations.
I wonder how many more will be suffering the same withdrawal symptoms, displaced habits and longing memories for our former bookstore?
Maybe I should turn to raising chickens instead. Little pigs are cute too. Except that I know where both go after they turn the right age. They never get enrolled in school.