Once upon a time there lived a lovely if somewhat odd young girl, and that young girl loved books. She loved books more than almost anything else in the world, and not only did she love to read them, she loved to look at them and smell them and imagine what it would be like to live in a house full of all the books she could ever imagine. Since she could not actually live in a house entirely made of books, she would hang out in bookstores a lot, and her very favorite was a wondrous place called Edward McKay Used Books. Not only did they have lots of books there, they were totally non-corporate and counterculture and they played cool music and had weird art on the walls and welcomed the pierced/ tattooed/ green-haired/ otherwise lovely if somewhat odd people who tended to be frowned upon in some other establishments. The girl spent many, many a happy hour there, wandering the aisles, perusing the books, or sitting in the floor reading a new discovery that was too good to wait.
One day the girl moved to another land far, far away. And while there were other book stores in her new home, none could quite compare, although one, The Bookshop on the Avenue, came close, particularly sine it was actually in a house and the girl could picture how wonderful it would be to just move a cot into one of the rooms and live there with all the books forever.
Then, many years later, the girl got the chance to go back and visit Edward McKay again, and she was a little nervous that it would be different than before. But she was delighted to discover that even though it had moved and was much bigger, it was just as wonderful as she remembered. Better even, since now she was all grown up and had money to spend. And spend she did indeed.