Less so since I started reading again. It's been...maybe three months since I've read a book. That's too long. Yes, I listen to short stories every night, and some of them are very long indeed, actual novels sometimes, and yet it's not the same.
Listening for me is not the same. These single sentences at a time. Different. Looking at a page of text in my hands is an act of osmosis; I'm reading one line but the lines I've read before it are still sinking into my mind and the lines coming up next that I haven't consciously read yet have still been glimpsed, at the edge of my vision, and the coming words are not an absolute surprise because they've been sitting on the windowsill like a cooling blueberry pie and the smell has reached my nose.
Something like that, but not exactly.
It doesn't happen when I'm listening to books. Which I believe in wholeheartedly; I do not weigh their values against each other.
If I could sink into the words, I would. For a little while anyway. It sounds like great fun.
