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How our reading develops as we do and helps us through dark times |
Black and White The 'Faraway Tree'stood clear and tall. My eyes were bright, adventure beckoned. Lost so young in imagination. Tumbling words like a children's playground. Insatiable need, spread like fever, for more hidden places and corners. To find such love for exploration. Wardrobe, fauns and a snow queen take me surfing on this tide of black and white. Unable to stop the waterfall overwhelming such a tiny mind, until sleep would come and overtake. They seeped into all the deep places. Made it light when I needed them to. Those letters and words that touched me then were foundations for another time; when childhood passed, and transformation to adulthood was still so distant. New horizons failed to appear, and winters cold grip, held life frozen in time. Like Wells I wished I could move backwards or forwards, away from there. King, Herbert, expressions of this place. Twisted, malformed, distorted and wrong. These worlds in which I travelled were bleak. Distinctly dark, a new black and white extinguished and buried reality. So my survival was possible. The day came when I needed to tell. Strength arose, alongside fear, facing the nightmare concealed so deep within. Unbelief, the result I dreaded was realised, evil rose its head. Spitting cobras, verbal black and white struck me down, and I laid in silence. Poison deep in arteries and veins. Wizards, hobbits, adventures were found. Noiseless dark was brushed away, mists cleared. Imperceptible the black and white that broke the evil shadows of youth |