“What does?” Lynn asked, handing him the next sack out of the trunk.
“Just acknowledging that we’re never going to read these,” he said. He looked at the hundred or so books they were piling on the second-hand book reseller’s cart. It hadn’t seemed like so many while they were going through their purge at home, but here, on the sidewalk in the bright light of day, seeing them all together, it was an impressive pile. “It feels like we’re giving up.”
“You wanted to do some spring cleaning,” she said. “And we both have a book problem. I’m tired of seeing how much we can cram into the bookshelves. It’d be nice to be able to use bookends for a change.”
“Think of all the knowledge that’s on this cart,” Matt said. “Knowledge that we’ll never absorb.”
“If it was just a matter of absorbing it,” Lynn said, handing him the last bag, “it wouldn’t be a problem. Thing is, we’re never going to read these.”
“They seemed like good ideas when we bought them,” he said.
“But we never read them,” she said, slamming the trunk closed for emphasis. “Look, maybe it’s a feeling of mortality. It’s not that we don’t want to read them. It’s that we don’t have time to read them. We can only read so many books in our life.”
“Yep. We’re just picking our battles.”