A love letter from an old friend.

Sitting on your shelf, gathering dust, I was new once, now my ears are dogged, torn and I am tired, yellowed and faded. 

I remember when you found me, how thrilled you were when first you saw my face, and you held me to your heart. We spent treasured times together, hours upon hours traveling through time, traveling through space, flying across the desert plain, across to the mountains and past the sea.

I heard you laugh, I heard you cry, the smile on your face at the happy times, the tears running down your cheeks, the grief and pain. Every day with you was like a new chapter of a book, new and exciting, bright and fresh.

Now our time together come less frequently, you have learned much from me and need me less. You grab me from time to time, reaffirming our friendship, if only for a short while. I come to life when you think of me, I awake from my sleep and for a while there is no death, there is no end.

I saw you the other day, you came around, but you didn't come for me. Instead, you put another one of my kind upon this shelf; we sit here sharing stories of the times we spent with you. How lonely we are together, without you.

We miss you, but we know that you love us, you cherish us, you will never forget us. We know these things and many more because you have not discarded us, or gave us away. On your shelf we stay, till you want to read us again.

Sincerely,

Your loving books.

by Robert Barbere