There is something about old books that just “calls to me.”
At thrift stores, they will sometimes catch my eye, and one paragraph from a randomly selected page can be enough for me to know that this book is meant to be bought and read by me.
So, I am now recording myself reading this “curated” stash of literature out loud, and you are invited to listen along.
Not fancy.
Not rehearsed.
Just me, enjoying the experience of reading out loud, whatever these pages hold, with no preparation or advance warning.
There’s a bit of metaphor in that for life, ya know?