Today I am your commander: you have to station yourselves in the shelves assigned by me. I choose your mates according to my whimsy. Today you will stand next to a book written about the same topic. Then you will have lots to talk, or perhaps argue, about. But then I’ll notice that the shades of purple on your spines do not quite match. It’ll bug me quite a bit to watch you standing next to each other and well, a quick swap or two, and you’ll find yourself partnered with someone else. You may not get along but you have no choice. You faithfully stand guard to make me feel safe in my fortress of bound words.
At least that’s what I’d like to think.
But of course it’s entirely possible you are inwardly seething and patiently waiting… for you know you will one day outlive your commander. I will be gone and everything about me will be in the past. You, however, will march on to the future, holding tightly to the strings of words formulated long ago. Perhaps then you will meet a kinder commander, or a more indifferent one.
Still, I am sorry to say I’d rather be an ephemeral reader than an eternal book.
No comments:
Post a Comment