The Peculiar Chronicles,
We get tangled into the stories that we read. They make us dream, wish and ask ourselves who we are. That’s the point of stories. Without them, we are merely unimaginative, shielded beings. At least I think so. They enlist so much in us. Just thinking of all the possibilities that words can create, makes me fall in love with them even more. You know, my mother used to take me to the local library, where we would spend countless hours of summer time. Breathing in the slightly too chilly air that picked at my fingertips and nose as I crawled into a large wooden chair. I don’t remember a lot about the books I chose, but knowing myself they were colourful, adventurous and had a few riddles to boot. It wasn’t the most fanciest library, the books were well-loved – the shelves mismatched and sloped – but it was beautiful. I can still imagine the worn floor with the mixture of tall and short tables. I can even feel the rough wood of the front desk where I would peek over the edge and long-fully gaze at the piles of books who’ve not yet been sorted. Oh, and don’t get me going on my first Library Card, or the first time I met an Author! It’s fun looking back, visiting old places and reminiscing…
What’s one of your early memories that have to do with reading/books?
I know it has been awhile! But we can’t say that anymore…
p.s. – check out these great cupcakes I made! (I’m learning how to ‘frost’)