Charing Cross is famed for its second-hand and vintage book shops. I popped into a few of them recently and found myself alone in the basement of one shop.
The walls were concrete, chipped white paint with some brick exposed here and there. Built into the walls were bookshelves - stacks and stacks of books, lined in a vague order, the system for which was so incomprehensible that it made for even better exploring and even more rewarding when I picked a gem from between two dusty covers and took it home...
