Lately, I have found myself, picking bad reading. Well rather, my mother has. She is kind enough to give me her books after she has read, and then I too, can pass them on. It's been months of idle shop talk. Mom and I used to talk of the books, curious what the next chapter in the life of so and so would be like, but as of late.. nothing. I have a total of 15 books, I have just thrown in the Goodwill box, because I can't get into them. I have given them chapters, waiting for something to spark my soul. Today.........after one paragraph of a new book, I am hooked. Ahh glorious grand feeling. It's like hitting the lottery. I am almost afraid to peek in farther, for fear the book will let me down, or I will read so fast, I will be pedaling faster and harder for a new book. It makes me wonder if my degree of curiousity, adventure, or zest has changed, that all of a sudden, I am bored. I hope not. I just hope it was the lofty choices of the "book club" my mother belongs too.
Ahhh joyous occasion I have a fulfilling story to unfold in front of me.
