Once upon a time and, yes, even today, we read across genres the way one roams a city without a map. Sometimes we find a hidden gem by accident. Sometimes we return to a classic like visiting an old friend who opens the door and says come in, I have been expecting you.
And somehow, between all of this choosing and wandering, we remembered why we started reading in the first place. Not to keep up. Not to finish. But to fall quietly and repeatedly in love with books.

This is a place for stories about stories. For book reviews, literary essays and reading lists.
Wander through old favourites. Discover new voices. All are written with affection curiosity and a belief that books still shape how we see the world.
Pull up a chair. Stay awhile. There is always another story waiting.