Welcome to my reading room. This is where I curl up with a great book every night.. It is actually quite a comfortable room. Notice the huge stone fireplace along that wall. It used to burn wood, but now it burns gas. Sometimes, in the winter, it is lit when I enter the room. I never light it myself though; it must be one of the servants that hover around me when I’m in the room reading. The funny thing is that I don’t remember hiring them, or paying them for that matter, but they always seem o be here when I come in.
They do, however, know their way around. If I ask for a particular book, they are very quick to find it and sometimes they will even describe the story to me. For servants, they seem to be very well read. One thing that they don’t seem very good at is bringing me something to eat or drink as I peruse the stacks. When I ask them for a cup of coffee or a spot of tea, they just give me a strange look and then go about their business arranging and stacking the books.
Speaking of the books themselves, I do seem to have an awful lot of them; on all kinds of subjects too. The servants have arranged them according to whether they are fiction or non-fiction, very convenient. Some of the books even have numbers on them making them easier to find. Most of them have the date that I bought them penciled inside the cover, although I don’t remember buying any. I’m thinking hat maybe I have my own personal book buyer. But that would take a great deal of money that I must have for a reading room this nice, but I really don’t remember how I came upon all of it. Maybe some rich family member died and left it to me. My memory is unclear how I came across it, but there must be a lot of it.
It must be a lot of money because my reading room has a few comfortable overstuffed chairs, nice lamps that give an even soft glow to the room, and restrooms. That’s right, my room even has restrooms so I don’t have to travel far to use one. As a matter of fact there are two of them, one marked “Men” and the other marked “Women.” One even has room for a wheelchair in case one of my guests has a disability. And the servants always keep them both properly stocked with tissue. How thoughtful! I hate it when I run out, it’s so embarrassing.
I’ve found the book that I will be reading by the fireplace tonight, something called “The Stranger” by Albert Camus, one of my favorite writers. Most nights I read a good book, but the staff always makes sure I have the latest newspapers and periodicals as well.
I can see through my divided windows that the leaves are falling outside and it’s getting colder, so that means that the help will soon be lighting the gas fireplace again. I can’t wait. It always adds a comfortable, cozy glow to my reading room. It’s my favorite place to be in the whole wide world.
One thing that strikes me as sort of strange though, it’s really been puzzling me for a couple of months now. Last summer I tried to take one of the books outside to read in the pleasant breeze of a warm summer’s evening, but one of my servants stopped me and asked me for my “card.” Imagine that, I have to have some kind of a card to read a book outside on my own lawn. Imagine that.