I realized something this morning. But I have no idea what prompted the thought. From the day I first learned to read, there’s never been a day when I haven’t had my nose buried in a book.
Honestly, I don’t remember when the last time was, I curled up with a good book. And got so involved in the story, I lost track of time. Not wanting to put the book down, even for a minute, to go to the bathroom.
Or talk on the phone. Or make a cup of tea. Or have a snack. Or eat dinner. Or go to sleep.
My life has been filled with books I loved so much, I’d have to read them, cover to cover, in a day. And all night, if necessary. There have been hundreds of all-nighters, during my lifetime.
Always, dreading the end, actually. Wanting them never to end. The books, not the nights. Continue reading