The Weekly Pen #4

The Weekly Pen is going to be a place where I will post original songs, short stories, non-fiction articles, or poems each week. So here is your weekly dose of TWP (The Weekly Pen):

Note: This is a short poem I wrote. The title is a giveaway to the last phrase (haha).

The Bookstore

Books,
My eyes light up at the sight of them,
Shiny, glistening illustrations on the cover,
The book, Sitting there,
Waiting to be read,

The beautiful sound,
Of pages rustling,
The beautiful sound,
Of pages being read,
And pages being turned,

The smell of brand new books,
The smell of hot steaming coffee in the air,
The smell of hard-bound leather,
And the smell of musty, old paperbacks,

Shelves and shelves,
Of hundreds of books,
Surrounded by comfy beanbags,

Sitting on a bright, orange beanbag,
And grabbing a book,
I devour words one by one,
Until someone tells me,
“Madame, it is time to close,”

I go to the counter,
And buy my book,
As I walk out,
I am greeted,
By the cold, dark night,

I arrived at my house,
Flashlight in hand,
I open my book,
And read it,
Until the wee hours of the morning,
As the sun seeps through my window,
I read on,
Until the last page,
Until the last word,
Until the last letter,
Is read,

The next day,
I am surrounded by books again,
This time,
I arrive early,
So that I will have time to explore,
The thousands of books that awaits me,
Can you guess where I am?