When my brother and I were little, we usually had cereal for breakfast.
Every morning, we would get out all the boxes and put them on the table before making our choices. Once the cereal and milk were poured, we’d sit down on opposite sides of the table, and make forts and barricades out of the cereal boxes.
And then I’d read them (or at least, my side of them). Every word – even though I’d read them fifty-seven times before.
I would read anything I could get my hands on. Still do.
Reading was my escape, my soothing balm, my entertainment. Still is.
Lucky, lucky me.
listening to: Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody