Beyond a hand held beyond itself the mist is too thick to see.
I was house sitting at my aunt’s. She lives in this beautiful old house near the lake, and I had been enjoying the water and the warm spring weather all weekend. Before she left, my aunt told me that if I wanted to, I should feel free to explore the attic, where she stored her old books, and also where the previous owners had left some stuff. I’m such a bibliophile, so that afternoon, when my skin felt a little hot from the sun, I wandered up the stairs….
I gasped as I got there, the floor was full of trunks, suitcases, racks with clothes from long gone eras and stacks and stacks of beautiful but dusty books were scattered all over the floor. In the little afternoon sunlight that entered from the small window, I picked up a book and caressed the cover, almost like I would caress a lover …