I imagine myself a library. It's in an old Victorian Villa with wall to wall bookshelves, a Chesterfield sofa and a large dog lolling in front of an open fire.
I'll be lounging on my leather, red wine in one hand and my latest read in the other.
Until that day, when I'm hopelessly and inexplicably rich, I shall have to make do by pilfering images from Bookshelf Porn to feed my fantasy
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