Old Fingerprints: Page 1099

[Susan Shuman]

The other day I was looking for something to read—not that there isn’t plenty of fascinating material online, but this time I wanted something to hold in my hands.

Don’t you ever miss the feel of holding someone’s creativity in your very hands, knowing as a writer the sweat, heart and angst that the author pours into his/her craft?

In any case, I chose a book from the shelf and fanned its pages―catching that magical, musty whiff of which I am so fond. Bonus:  dog-eared corners and words anonymously smudged by old fingerprints.  

Between the pages and close to the middle of the book was a brown, dried-up daisy.

It was the heart-stopping, memory-wrenching daisy that was once as alive and vibrant as the person who had given it to me.

 

[Susan Shuman]

Hi Paul,

Thanks for stopping by. I would *love* to fond something like that of my fathers. What luck!

Susan

[Paul de Denus]

A while ago, I came across a book that had belonged to my Dad and it had his scribble notes in along the edge of a few pages-it must have been something from 'required reading' back when he was going to school. Your post reminded me of that.

Thank you.