What Makes Reading Between the Lines Fun…
I had to ask what was the hurry? Wasn’t like we were rushing to an emergency room or anything. We actually were on our way to something like a mall, less than a mile away, on a picture perfect sunny afternoon… to window shop if I’m to be more specific.
But he replied something to the tune of ‘he just didn’t like dragging down the road.’ In other words, if he were reading a book, he’d be the reader wishing that the story get to the point… for no other reason than getting to the point because life was too short to fool around on nonsense.
Now, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with racing through life, grabbing pleasure every moment we can, only to come to a screeching halt at the tail end of it trying to back-date all we missed. It wasn’t that long ago when it was me racing around like that. I have to now pull out old photos and journals just to remember parts of what I raced by… all to only note… this is what makes reading between the lines so much fun.