This is one of those odd little spots in our house, that tend to happen at the corners of rooms--because how can various pieces of furniture come together in corners without awkwardness, has anyone figured this out? Well, not us, anyway. So in this case this empty space has to be here so that you can get the books on and off the bookshelf on the left. But what in a normal apartment would be dead space has become, in the world of Mabel, favored space. Sometimes she crawls in there and plays bookstore, pulling books off the shelves and selling them to us for exorbitant amounts of imaginary money, each book tailored to the secret needs of the individual which only the bookseller somehow magically knows. Other times when she is feeling grumpy she uses it as a Mad Place in which to keep herself to herself and feel her feelings for a while. All in all it could not be a more harmonious use of space if we had planned it that way. Luck and grace and childhood making a virtue of necessity once again.
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