I did something for the first time in ten years.
I don’t know what you’re thinking, but whatever it is – it’s not that.
Today I actually bought a book; a real book with pages. I’ve been reading kindles for so long, and indeed writing them that I forgot how good it is to hold a book; to smell it and hear the crackle of the pages turning. It sounds like I’m speaking of something real but I really missed them, and after flicking through Amazon for an hour looking for something new to read, I finally found one in the supermarket.
Do you remember the flowers in my garden that somehow braved the arctic chill?