Roses & Teacup by Maria Nash
Truth. When I am at an antique faire or an antique market and I see a pile of old books I have to force myself to put one foot in front of the other and slowly walk, not run, toward them. Even though my eyes are fixed on that stack of books like a drowning man staring at the shore, I ignore my fingers twitching at my side and approach steadily.
Once I reach the shop or stall I totally forget about trying to appear like a normal human. I take comfort in the fact that the owner won’t judge me if I sink to the dusty floor and give myself over to the draw of the books. They would never judge me if there are tears in my eyes when I find an old Tennyson.
There are old friends in each pile and there are new friends whispering hello! There are ageless treasures and there are ones that have been loved until the spine is thin.
I love literature. I love that I can be anywhere in any world in a matter of seconds. That nothing is impossible. Literature is a bridge to that part of our soul that longs for creative freedom and for those few precious moments I can let myself fly.
Look what made it back to my dashboard! This is one of my favorite things that I have written on Ornamented Being.
I love stories. I love reading stories, I love writing stories, I love telling stories. I love how you can pick up a book and be transported to Middle Earth, 19th century London, Narnia, Hogwarts or any other time or place in history. I love how all of your worries and cares disappear just by turning a page. I love how characters can become best friends at a time when you have no one else. I love the escape, the chance to be someone else, somewhere else for a little while. It’s refreshing. We all need stories.
