Books

I love Books.
I love the feel and smell of them. The promise of them. Sometimes i bring a whole load of them back from the library and line them up on my bookshelf. And then just look at them and cackle with glee. Sometimes i read them all. Sometimes i dont get through even one.

And I love books about books. The Rule of Four by Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, a book i started reading on a whim, is a delight. A totally unexpected trove of metaphors and allegories and history.

Another one was Shadow of the Wind, a 2001 novel by Spanish writer Carlos Ruiz Zafón. A book about a book and a man who wanted it. A dark and somewhat twisted maze, it was, but with beautiful prose. It was a story that wrapped its arms around you and drew you in, willing or unwilling.

Books are my ordinary and extraordinary. I could come home to them, treat them like a safety blanket. They could be salvation and my nirvana. They are real. They have personalities. They are people, i think sometimes.