Fell in love with those electric lights.

One of the quirks of the coffee shop where I get my usual Wednesday treat is its used book section: between two little study nooks on the back wall are a few shelves of books people can take from or add to as they like. Some of them have been there for months, others are gone within a couple of days. I always like seeing what's new and what gets looked over.

It's not just books, though. Last Wednesday, someone left a bunch of old Cook's Illustrated issues, and I had a nice time flipping through those while I waited for my cortado. Then I dropped one. When it hit the floor, some papers fell out - papers that turned out to be recipes ripped from pages of other magazines and a couple of handwritten pieces.

The magazines I left for someone else to look at; the papers I kept. The handwritten ones have splatters on them, splatters that come from being in proximal area to a stove. From being used. I don't know if I'll get much use out of them, but seeing this tangible link to another person and proof these papers were used for their intended purpose gives me a lot of delight, and that's more than enough.