I visit you often. There is no way you can deny that. I come see you about once a month, on average. Not only do I visit you, I spend time with you. I wander your shelves, lovingly caressing the spines of volume after volume. Picking them out at random, reading the blurbs, even a few pages. I've even 'stolen' three books by reading them entirely in your hallowed halls.
And you know me. Almost every time I've walked into your outlets, I've walked out with at least one heavy bag, filled with books. And you have records of the kind of books I've picked up. You remember them all, don't you? Of course you do. Don't pretend. You even made me one among 'The Fellowship'. The Fellowship, Landmark. Know what that means? It means you promised to value me. To remember things about me. Wish me on my birthday. Send me a little reminder when I'd stayed away too long. To let me know when that book I had my eye on came back into stock. To gently prod me when new titles released in my favourite sections, softly filling the words, "Come see me again..." in my mind.
Then why? Why did you send me this, Landmark?
No, really. What did I do to deserve this? I don't seem to remember buying the Twilight series.
I am heartbroken.
Wrought Iron Gate Repair Wholesale District
6 months ago