The Old Bookshop

On a narrow street in Lisbon, there was a bookshop that never seemed to close. Its windows were always warm with yellow light.

Inês walked past it every evening on her way home. One rainy night, she finally opened the door.

Inside, the air smelled of paper and coffee. An old man looked up from his book and smiled at her.

“Every book here has been read at least once,” he said. “Some of them are waiting for their second reader.”

Inês chose a small blue book with a torn cover. When she opened it, she found a note written in pencil: “For whoever comes next.”

The note continued on the back: “Read this book slowly, underline the sentence you like most, and leave it here for someone else.” Six sentences were already underlined, each in a different color.

For a week, Inês read a few pages every night on the tram. The book told the story of a woman who traveled around the world looking for her sister.

On the last page, she found her sentence: “We are never lost if someone is waiting for us.” She underlined it in green and smiled.

The next evening, she returned the book to the shelf. The old man nodded, as if he already knew. Outside, it had stopped raining, and the street smelled of wet stones.