|When I get the camera working I will take a photo |
of the real thing in my hot little hands
Beginning this classic that I have wanted to read for some time, feels like an experience more than reading, in a sense. The silky smooth cover caresses my finger tips like the finest fabric; the deep red cover and place-marker ribbon evokes an older time and depth of experience that feels transportive, taking me in body and mind back to Kafka, walking and reading through the blood on the tracks of time since he published his powerful, prophetic work in 1925.
|Even my (average) photo of the book proves the point that|
the value is more in the touching, than the seeing.
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