by Barbara Rose Waters The store happened because Marsha and I never stopped daydreaming. Every so often at school, we’d talk about how nice it would be if there were a women’s bookstore in San Jose. “It’s so hard to get up to Palo Alto more than a couple of times a semester.” “You’d think in a city the size of San Jose, somebody would have started one by now.” “We’ll probably have to do it ourselves.” Having our own bookstore was one of those fantasies we’d both had since we were kids and it was fun reviving it, but we knew it was totally impractical — we could never
awakening to our daydream
awakening to our daydream
awakening to our daydream
by Barbara Rose Waters The store happened because Marsha and I never stopped daydreaming. Every so often at school, we’d talk about how nice it would be if there were a women’s bookstore in San Jose. “It’s so hard to get up to Palo Alto more than a couple of times a semester.” “You’d think in a city the size of San Jose, somebody would have started one by now.” “We’ll probably have to do it ourselves.” Having our own bookstore was one of those fantasies we’d both had since we were kids and it was fun reviving it, but we knew it was totally impractical — we could never