I turned the last page of the book, and read the last line. For the next couple of minutes, the story was wrapped around my head. And then suddenly, I snapped out of it. It was as if a spell over me had broken that second. I realized I was in my room, sitting in my bed, reading this book. It was cold, actually I’d been feeling cold for a long time I guess, but I was so engrossed in the book that my brain disregarded this particular signal it was receiving.
It’s true, what they say about Jeffrey Archer. He’s a magician, and his writing really does cast a spell on his readers.
I remembered vaguely that I was very angry before picking up the book, having fought with a very dear friend. I still remembered what the fight was about, but my mind was devoid of any disturbed feelings. I just felt nice. Maybe this is why they say a book is your best friend, coz isn’t this what friends r supposed to do? No matter what is troubling you, a friend can pull u out of it and take u somewhere better.
Books, (well only the good ones), take you on such wonderful journeys inside your head, that for a while, you cease to exist in the real world. This feeling is truly wonderful and cannot be described, only experienced. I’ve had it so many times, yet it constantly amazes me how mesmerized we can get by a bunch of words skillfully strung together by a master-craftsman.
I salute all the word-wizards who have created these delightful little words which we can journey through.