Dear Books…

Literate for a Day
Someone or something you can’t communicate with through writing (a baby, a pet, an object) can understand every single word you write today, for one day only. What do you tell them? (Thanks for the suggestion, Chic Prune!)

Dear Books,

Thank you for transporting me to places I never dreamed of. You supply endless respite from the rough world of reality, keeping me sane. You have educated me, provided insight and given me endless questions to ponder. Fiction, you have allowed me entrance into a few forbidden areas I would have otherwise remained clueless. I’ve been privy to the intimate lives, failures and successes of many. I have learned of our nations past, present and future. I have cried, felt anger, laughed and envied, again you continue to entertain me.

Not only do you please my eyes, I love holding you in my hands, the rigidness of your spine, the smell of ink as I turn your pages, the crisp feel of your cover and the dust jackets I protect and keep pristine. Yes you provide me with a tactile experience I savor as much as your words.

Oh my dear books what would I ever do without you? Thank you for always being there for me, for the company, experiences and hours spent together, undeniable quality time. I will always take pleasure in devouring you repeatedly. Thank you, my words fail to convey my depth of appreciation but I know you somehow understand by reading between my paltry lines.

All my love,


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