It was not embarrassing: colleagues in the break room laughed about having the same experience. When I wasn’t craning my neck to see what others were reading, I got so absorbed in Elizabeth Jane Howard’s The Light Years that I read beyond my stop. Yes, that’s a sexual stereotype, but I swear it was true. Women with disheveled wet hair (I was one of many who didn’t blow-dry) read novels, while men in suits read immense biographies.
The best thing about riding the bus, besides the transportation, was feeling like a member of a secret reading society.
Although independent bookstore owners claim business is thriving, at least fifteen indies have closed here since the ‘90s-and I surmise that the one remaining is a tax write-off.Ĭommuters used to read newspapers and books. I never see books anymore, and I rarely see Kindles or Nooks. Now that smart phones dominate people’s lives, I cannot tell whether passengers on the bus are reading or doing some other activity. Is reading common or uncommon in the twenty-first century? It is difficult to know.
0 kommentar(er)
