The Oscars is done. It is time to go back to reading fiction, and continue with the unfinished business of books scattered in my bedside. I haven’t open a single book since December, and it was akin to committing a serious crime. That’s how it feels for someone who reads a lot of fiction. I miss the smell of paper, and the sound of pages as you turn a page.
I am currently reading 3 books at the same time, 2 fiction and 1 semi-autobiography. Oh well, its my comeuppance for being inactive for a long time. But I am not complaining.
For a bookworm, that’s a joy.