head in clouds,
still travelling fictional roads
though the covers are closed.
Slowly moving through today,
from a world spun from words.
Fiction being truth,
when living between pages
for several days,
Do you ever find yourself feeling something akin to culture shock when you emerge from several days of reading- reading book after book from a single series until the fictional world in your head is more real than the world your body habitates?
As you try to pull your head back from where it is still lost between pages, does your heart ache to be back in that place? Even while you’re full of knowing that the place exists only in your imagination, crafted from the imagination of another, do you feel it is yours as much as the creators, because you’ve journeyed together?
I have the same feeling coming home after a time abroad. Finding myself takes time. Good thing there is a waiting list for the next book in Diana Gabaldon‘s Outlander series. After reading 2 books (1800 pages) over the last 4 days, I’m quite emotionally exhausted.