Just Me...

I'm one of those people that looks under a cap once you twist it off a bottle. I know it may not, and usually doesn't say anything, but I do it anyway.

I like to walk on gravel, because the crunch makes me smile.

I like the way it feels to turn the pages of a thinly leafed book, and I like the way old ones look. How many different stories can they tell that aren't already written down?