My recent reading life takes place mostly on the subway. This week's B/Q train book has been
Three Messages and A Warning: Contemporary Mexican Short Stories of the Fantastic edited by Eduardo Jiménez Mayo and Chris N. Brown.
In "Future Nereid," by Gabriela Damián Miravete, translated by Michael J. Deluca, these two lines lines about reading jumped out at me:
"In your belly something will shrivel at the thought of the unfortunate distance which sometimes separates us from souls attuned to our own."
"You'd like to underline the words in this book as a substitute for a choir of caresses."
And something shriveled in me, and something else bloomed.
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And this is why I give my heart to authors that find the combination of words that describe a part of me, of my life or my thoughts or give me new places to go to. I relentlessly recommend them, I buy their books, I think of them often. Sometimes I write them letters. It is why I keep reading. I keep reading because they love me through the page, a special, wide-spectrum, im/personal love ray.
Who has caressed you?
