I’ve always been a reader. I read anything and everything, and then I read it again – many times over. So obviously, in the past few months, to fill time, my reading has gone up several notches. Friends, relatives, all have rallied to inundate my house with books. I’ve read new stuff, and some that I had read but forgotten.
I was introduced to Nora and Erma, and finally dabbled in Murakami. I got around to reading The Martian, and also The Reluctant Fundamentalist. I read mysteries and crime thrillers, and re-visited classics. But somehow I found death and loss in each one of them.
Sometimes I was Miss Seiki from Kafka on the Shore, waiting to join her lost love, living in a dream of those happy times. Sometimes I was Erica, lost to everything but Chris. Whatever the story, there was a bit here, a piece there that reminded me of G and of our lives together.
It’s nice to get lost in books. You can live in a different world and escape reality for a bit. You can feel a kinship with the characters, and forget your own loneliness. You can laugh and cry with them, and hope for a happy ending – though you may not always find it.
I’m making the next list to tide me over in January. Any suggestions?