Tuesday, December 14, 2010


Reading books is not something I do.
Without reason--I just am not in the habit.
There is no pride in that statement, simply a fact.

Some blogger friends were discussing recently--in comments--
a certain Portugese author and Nobel Prize winner, Jose Saramago.

This very morning I biked past a familiar old building, one which
I've  frequently wondered what was hidden inside. Huge alphabet letters
in bold and gold beckoned me: PUBLIC LIBRARY...

Once inside (ah! warmth) I just walked aimlessly among the stacks, and
guess what? My eyes literally (pun intended) fell upon the name:
"Saramago, Jose". Of the several books (English) by him on the shelf,
very carefully did I choose one--by closing my eyes and
pulling down whichever book my hands touched.

The title of the book in my hands: "ALL THE NAMES".
It was that very same book which had been discussed.
Too cold to ride any longer, I sped home to read,
a new practice for me--like opening the door to a new room?


 Image: Jose_Saramago_by_COVO
(Deviant Art)