|This is not me, nor any of my relations!!|
7:15 A.M.: I am put through the tortures of breakfast. Never knowing where that dollop of honey is going to fall... I see it dripping from the edge of your slightly burnt toast, Reader! Don't let it fall on me! I've had enough of your meal mishaps, thank you very much. Despite your surprising ability to put me under such torture without so much as a speck of sympathy, I am very impressed by your ability to turn pages with one hand.
8:00 A.M.: I am stuffed in a backpack between a binder and a lunchkit. I am jumbled around and around and around until somewhere between 8:30 and 9:00 I am rescued from the bowels and I get to see the light - or at least, the cold fluroescent light of a school classroom.
9:00 A.M.: I emerge from the backpack, and I am now staring at the underside of a desk coated with gum. I am disgusted, but at least I have half of your face, Reader, to stare at as you devour my words. It is entertaining watching your face contort with reactions to the words sprawled across my insides. Ahh... I love how much you love gorging yourself on my innards. Oh, no! You're eating an apple! Not MORE opportunity for you to get food on my pristine pages!
9:00 AM -3:30 PM: Throughout the day Reader puts me through a routine of stuffing me in the backpack, sliding me out onto her lap and exposing me to light (and food! Ah!) and then stuffing me back in again. By the end of the day, my spine is sore from my pages being open and closed so much but there is also a nagging voice in the back of my mind that tells me this is only a sign of how much she loves me. Just look how many pages she has turned only today! What beautiful fingers she has... (when they aren't covered with peanut butter!)
4:00 PM: Yet another journey out of the backpack, and this time I brace myself for I know there is a long stretch ahead, a marathon if you will. During this time, Reader has an unquenchable appetite and I feel my pages bending under her furious flipping! Though I am becoming increasingly weary, I am prepared and I make it through until her hunger for food overcomes her hunger for words and I am left on the coffee table, open and upside down so she won't lose her spot (oh, I so wish she'd quit that horrible habit... my spine aches so!). I do not understand this want for food. Aren't words so much better, so much more filling?
6:00 PM: I am picked up yet again, for another marathon that I know is to come. But there is joy in my heart when I see Reader swallow words, my words, and I see the corners of her eyes crinkle when she's read something funny, and I see the tears flow down her cheeks when something has touched her. I feel her fingers tense and I feel her heart rate flutter in anticipation.
1:00 AM: I am weary. She is weary. I can feel the grip of her fingers on my pages loosen and I know soon I will drop to the ground, as happens every night, and I will be forced to lie in a very uncomfortable position until morning when Reader picks me up again with eagerness. But I can also feel her mind buzzing with thoughts and they are all buried deep in my words, so much so that I feel as if she is walking among the pages with me, hand in hand. Reader thinks she is too much a part of the story to let go now.
2:00 AM: Reader has fallen asleep. I am sitting on the floor with my spine in the air and my pages splayed out beneath me. I feel as if I am part of a Reader yoga class. Except I am supposed to get some rest like this.
3:30 AM: I manage to sleep. I need my energy in order to give all I can to Reader tomorrow!
*Note that the views expressed by this book in this post are not shared by all books.
*Also note that not all Readers treat their books in the same fashion; this post only demonstrates how one Reader treats books.