Why everyone should learn to write well

Without written communication, language would be lost in a dark alley trying to find its way back. The ability to construct sentences that are clear, concise, and easy to comprehend, is underrated and rare. In this post-literate world that we live in, the written word has more value than it ever did before. The internet... Continue Reading →

Yellow-paged love

I find you to be demanding today. Demanding to be eternally read and remembered, while thousands more continue to be born and bred, taking up shelves in bookshops and libraries that I may never get to see, touch or smell. Pages unflipped, will yellow before the dust settles. I find you to be wanting today.... Continue Reading →

Reading, Writing and Growing Up

My grandmother was a collector. She collected stamps, coins, postcards, letters, souvenirs, photographs, diaries and books. I was not allowed to touch any of that. At the most, she'd let me play with her jar of coins under supervision. But her books were never off limits. They were mine for the taking. She was an... Continue Reading →

Reading

The smell of dust clung to the room while they sat back and stared at me. I think I almost saw them pout. Or maybe that was just me. With every step, a tiny convolution took shape. One that brought back memories of  pages yellow and white. Black symbols afloat, mingling in and out of... Continue Reading →

Books

At the end of Each hagridden day, I came to you Seeking a quest, To look forward to. You, I opened, To that page Which held me last. Being released into A yet other world A megacosm That never failed me. In the hope To never return, I read on.

Picked

That leaf was the most beautiful thing she had seen in a while. On turning the yellow pages of an old, dusty book she had long-forgotten, there it lay, amongst kind. Paper is made of wood after all, she thought. It was in a safe place. Arid, drained of all that was liquid, it spoke... Continue Reading →

Blocked

Something stirred her awake. Maybe it was the neighbor's cat again. The wooden table wasn't a comfortable headrest. It took her brain a few minutes to go from blankness to sight. Every muscle of her body screamed ache. With half-opened eyes, she stares at the screen. A blank page. White. It makes her eyes hurt.... Continue Reading →

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