I spent my life folded between the pages of books.
In the absence of human relationships I formed bonds with paper characters. I lived love and loss through stories threaded in history; I experienced adolescence by association. My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together. I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction.

I take the train to and from work every day. And I actually enjoy it, because it gives me time to read - maybe the only time I get to do that in some days. A lot of kids travel by this particular train, because it runs close to when school starts, so it’s jam packed with them, most of them high school age. But…out of maybe 300 hundred people that take it every day, I hardly see anyone read. Most of the times, it’s only me. And I always get weird stares, or I hear them muttering or laughing. It doesn’t bother me, not really. It saddens me. Because, while reading is a hobby and it’s perfectly okay not to read and I don’t judge people who don’t read, I feel bad for them, they’re missing out. And I wish I saw more of them with a book in their hands.

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