Sunsets On Empire

Evening all.

Ooh, how I hate my kindle.

Hate it, hate it, hate it.

It doesn't fit well in my hand.

If you hold it tightly by the side it turns the pages before you want it to.

The battery always seems to fail just when you're at an exciting bit of the book, the screen doesn't react well to either bright sunlight or in shadow.

You can't drop it in the bath, or put a bookmark in it, there's no satisfying schlurp as you slowly turn a crisp new page, no romantic, recognisable, nostalgic smell of aged paper and fresh ideas.

In short, it doesn't look like a book, feel like a book, or smell like a book.

I will never be attached to my kindle like i'm attached to some of my old, dusty, battle scarred tomes. Every crease, wrinkle and rip I lovingly cherish, know intimately and forgive instantly, as lovers growing old together recognise and rejoice in their own, shared comfortable destruction.

However... I have noticed I seem to have over a 100 books stored on my kindle, of the four books I've read since Christmas, three of them have been via that medium and I've just bought four more for the kindle. Also it does seem to slip very easily into my pocket at the moment.

It won't ever replace my books, and it'll never be my lover, but it may become my friend.

night all

fish