How to Feel

It looked as though a great wind had come through, so scattered were the pages. Cover flaps lay open; stacks were piled high without thought for uniformity.

A small boy bent down ever so often and picked one up. He read a title he didn't recognize, perhaps even bothered himself with the description. He tossed around the idea that all of these were worth reading, felt it, weighed it in his hand. It had a strangeness about it. One was not unhappy about holding it in his palm but there was a feeling that he should not be holding anything but moving about with his lithe frame.

But no, they said. Probably less than one hundred years. Vicarious. The only victory of diversity in experience. The way to win. Worth it? Shouldn't be, but life's not fair.

Perhaps it was true but there was too much to read anyway, and always would be. In some sense there was actually more to read than experience. Humans want to feel, though.

He would feel with all five senses. He would not read about characters that could do so as well, for that's all everything comes down to.