I find there's nothing more comforting than curling up on the sofa after a long day and escaping into a world of fiction.
As a kid I couldn't go to sleep unless I'd read at least one chapter of whatever book was on the go. Reading was always associated with bedtime and many a night I'd stay up way past it greedily reading my books.
I guess reading for me was therefore associtated with the forbidden and was an indulgence I wanted whenever I could sneak in the time. And because books are a silent past time, I could surrendor myself to the weird and wonderful worlds of fiction without being caught out.
And now, the feeling of physically thumbing through a well read book brings back waves of nostalgia from those secretive days. The tangibility of having a book in my hand, with tumbed pages and notations and indicators of past-time readings could never be replaced for me.
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