Samir Mansour, a man in his fifties who says he has the soul of a 25-year-old, has ways of getting books to people in besieged buildings, makeshift schools and comfortable homes half a world away.
His bookshop in Gaza is known for its customer service.
There are customers he knows will never return because they were killed. There are customers he suspects are dead under the rubble, but who he hopes will soon wander in asking after a novel. And there are still more customers he had never seen before the war, but who now devour books with a ferocity that seems to have come from losing everything else.
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