a trip to the local french bookshop. because sometimes, you’re in france, not central asia.
librarie papillon has a large selection of french books, both new and used, fancy imported stationary and paper, as well as english and mongolian language texts. i was offered a cup of tea when i walked in by the friendly booksellers and perused the selection of english materials: the classics of american, british, and russian literature, some philosophy, speed reading, harry potter, and twilight. i left with a copy of short stories written by a nomadic mongolian poet and a wish that i could read many languages.
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