Hidden beneath the moth eaten cardigans and the sets of saucers that have seen many a better day; charity shops contain bowing shelves covered in a thin film of dust, encompassed by an old, musky smell reminiscent of your grandparents' attic. Stacked precariously upon these creaky old shelves lay reams of novels, each containing a new world to immerse yourself in. It just so happens that every so often these shelves are laid with a silver lining. A gem, if you will. Like a magpie is attracted to sparkly silver, I am attracted to the worn, dusty pages of books gone by; assembled as one in order to provide the rare, simple pleasure of a new world to a new owner. Room by Emma Donohague is such a gem, discovered beneath the folds of a charity shop.