When I was thrown under the bus and off of the train, leaving Spookistan in a hurry with only a few poorly mixed metaphors to sustain me, I wandered in dark places that though they were not dangerous were still depressing in their dark reflection of my mood.
One thing, a bookshop, and one person, my darling Eve, saved me.
Caspar’s Books and That, in the northern reaches of Buffalonya, a section of the city notable for its lack of boarded-up windows and signs touting wares and services no longer in service, gives me shelter, friendship, vocation, and a to-read list you would not believe.
There is only one way to visit Caspar’s Books and That.
— Goose Grim