I wish I had a house.
And in that house, there would be a room.
And in that room, there would be shelves.
And in those shelves, there would be books.
The books would be complete sets of a series. Single novels. Classics. Contemporaries. Coffee table books. Non-fiction books about the world. Not pathetic self-help books about depression. Photobooks. How-To books. Children's literature. Adult fiction. Music. Fashion. History. Art. Et cetera.
There would be a couch a wing chair. Today I learned that it's called a Queen Anne wing back chair (Thank you Lindsay!). Like so:
(photo credit:
http://www.superbideas.co.nz)
I would curl up in either one. Possibly for hours. Maybe I'll even fall asleep. So I guess there should be a blanket there too.
On the other side of the room, there would be more shelves which would hold my film and music library.
Adventure. Fantasy. Comedy. Romance. Drama. Noir. And maybe a few horror flicks.
Rock. Pop. Jazz. Classical. And recommendations from people whose taste in music is totally different from mine. I just want to hear everything.
I could live in that room. Such is the dream.