The Ocean at the End of the Lane.
Party games had been prepared by my mother but, because nobody was there, not even my sister, none of the party games were played, and I unwrapped the newspaper around the pass-the-parcel gift myself, revealing a blue plastic Batman figure. I was sad that nobody had come to my party, but happy that I had a Batman figure, and there was a birthday present waiting to be read, a boxed set of Narnia books, which I took upstairs. I lay on the bed and lost myself in the stories.
I liked that. Books were safer than other people anyway.
- Page: 9 – “The Ocean at the End of the Lane” by Neil Gaiman
As an introvert myself I understand. My books are my long-term friends. My shelves full of books bring me comfort and warm memories of good times between their covers.
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