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Like layers of an onion, I'm slowly dusting off the books I had put aside while the renovations were going on. One by one, each one will find a place on the shelves to share my day to day life, easy to grab when the need arises. They represent who I am, my past, my interests, my passions. They are an integral part of me, a part of my identity, and I like to go through their pages once in a while, just to keep in touch. Just to keep my feet on the ground and my mind on what matters.
I have met people that do not have any books in their life, nothing to read within a hand's reach. I can't imagine how that must be like. An alien on a strange planet, maybe.
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