Some day you will walk into a random charity shop in a town miles from your home and find a copy of your favourite book. The book that you talk to everyone about, but not many of them know. The book that you've owned, and given away, seven different times. The book that gives you a sense that things fit together, the sense that you hope to pass on to the friends and strangers who you give it to. The sense that slowly trickles out of you, day by day, until you forget what it even felt like in the first place. You will reach into your back pocket and find £1.30 in change. Everything will be all right in the end.