Pages flicker between fingers. Slowly turned, one after the other, the hands rubbing against paper in the silence of rooms subduing readers. Without bother and unflinching, a captivating story engulfs without the need for thinking past the pages at hand. Black ink against white backdrops, the novels rages through veins until the edges of the book are creased and the story is consumed a word at a time for a perfect picture in the form of a story.

The classics, the greats, the newest and the latest make the endless world of books a journey without a finish. The countless libraries, the small bookshops, the large retailers all contribute a slice to the giant paper pie of voices and experiences. From fiction to biography and poetry, heroes are born, and tales are captured in the grips of the next page and the next scene unraveling faster into the oncoming chapter.

The need to swallow each word without missing a letter is greater in the favorites. The intricacies of the works growing greater with each passing sentence, the small puzzles solved as part of larger collections patched and framed within the hard covers passed between readers.

Moonlight falls upon on my bookshelf. The books swallow the surrounding darkness and the glimmering spines shine titles and authors from years gone by, waiting to be picked up and given a chance.

One thought on “Reading

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