A Paper Tiger

I was going through some old stuff and came across a folder from one of my college reading/writing classes. I miss those kind of classes. but i found a paragraph I had written down by hand, and I think it;s the first or last paragraph of a short story called “Snow” by Ann Beatie:

This is a story, told the way you say stories should be told. Somebody grew up, fell in love and spent a winter with her lover in the country. This, of course, is the barest outline and futile to discuss. It’s as pointless as throwing birdseed on the ground while snow still falls fast. Who expects small things to survive when even the largest get lost? People forget years and remember moment. Seconds and symbols are left to sum things up: the black shroud ove the pool. Love, in its shortest form, becomes a word. What I remember about all that time is one winter. The snow. Even now, saying “snow,” my lips move so that they kiss the air.

i love the line “People forget years and remember moments.”

i forgot how much I love reading, and in turn how much i enjoy writing as well. The Kindle Sarah got me for my birthday has reminded me what it’s like to say to yourself “just one more chapter, then i’ll go to sleep.” and then of course it’s another 3 chapters before you put it down. it’s a good feeling. I’m reading the Hunger Games books, just finished the first and started the second last night. lovin’ it.

more reading stuff, less watching stuff. that sounds nice.