Reclusive Reads

Something that I've thought about, more and more, as the years go by, and I've never put into words before, but I'll try to here and we'll see what develops.....there are times while I'm reading when the words unlock memories. Or dreams, if you will. Of places and fragments of memories, from life or from some deep yearning in my mind. Some are just images from childhood, of growing up, of places I've seen. Some are of places that I know I've never been, or those that I can't get to from here. Others are, for the want of a better description, just feelings, emotional balloons floating up from my subconscious. That burst and overwhelm me with sadness. Or fear. Or an incredible sense of loss. They leave me drained, pondering the reason, but the more I think about what exactly brought it on, the more it eludes me. Maybe I'm a bit mad, and it's been suggested, many times, many ways, but the book that caused this reaction goes on the special shelf. To be reread and cherished for touching me this way. There have been a few, over the years. Sometimes, late at night, I wonder if I'm the only one this happens to. And, sometimes, like tonight, I wonder if I can put it all into words and ask if I'm not. So, come read this over, and see what you think. I don't know about you, but I need a drink.