After browsing around Borders for two days, I finally gave in to the temptation and bought a book - Wilbur Smith's "Birds of Prey". The size of any Wilbur Smith book is daunting but his descriptions of old-wordly adventures, voyages and wars are enchanting. The best part is that the books are long enough to last me for a couple of days and I wanted something that would last me for the rest of the Memorial Day weekend. Proud of my purchase, I swagger into the Harkins Centerpoint theatre and while I'm trying to arrange my ticket stubs and credit card, a tiny kid walks up to me and starts up a conversation:

Kid: [something unintelligible]...book...[unintelligible again]
Me: You wanna read this book? (how on earth is this tiny kid gonna read this big fat book?)
Kid: No, I already read it. It's good.

ahem.

I sometimes forget that even in this age of television and playstations, there are kids who enjoy reading books. The rest of the kids do not know what they are missing! I spent my entire childhood reading every conceivable book I could lay my hands on and I can say that nothing beats that experience. Sadly many of those books that my school library had are no longer in print. I wonder if anyone has delighted in the magical world of Enid Blyton or Malcolm Saville..