I turn on my computer.
I wait impatiently as it connects.
I go online…and my breath catches in my chest until I hear 3 little words: “You’ve got mail.”
I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of New York.
Just the beat of my own heart.
I have mail…from you.
Sometimes I wonder about my life.
I lead a small life.
Well, valuable, but small.
And sometimes I wonder…do I do it because I like it?
Or because I haven’t been brave?
So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book…when, shouldn’t it be the other way around?
I don’t really want an answer.
I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void.
It wasn’t that she was just selling books. It was that she was helping people become whoever they were going to turn out to be.
Because when you read a book as a child, it becomes part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does.
I must warn you that when you finally say the thing you mean to say the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows.
You are what you read.