Memory is an odd thing. Things you thought you had forgotten can still be in there buried deep.
I can remember the first book I read – I mean the first proper storybook rather than just a kids picture book or short fairy tales.
It was an Enid Blyton one – probably not so well-known as her others but the title and the cover stuck with me ever since.
It was Hurrah for the Circus!
Of course over my childhood it eventually got lost – maybe passed onto my younger brothers. Whatever happened to it I always remembered the feeling I had when I finished it. Like a loss. It sold me on reading for the rest of my life.
Even up until now I could remember the first line of that story.
Oddly though – nothing else – not the story, the characters – nothing!
About 10 years ago – maybe more, I spotted it in a second-hand bookshop. An identical copy of the one I had! I snapped it up!
It sat on my shelf for years. I never reread it – well it was a kids book and I had way too long a list of other books to read.
I would, I thought, read it to my kids one day. If they wanted me to.
Well, last night was that night. My son wanted me to read to him I had exhausted his many books – most of which involve Minecraft and lack any real story content. Tonight I decided to read him a proper story.
I still had no idea at all what it was even about – completely forgotten.
But as I read it – nearly every single sentence was instantly familiar. Though I could not tell you what came next – I remembered what I was reading with a vivid recollection! Remembering where I was when I first read it and how I felt and the images that were being conjured then came flooding back! It was incredible.
I only hope that my son gets the same from it, that it gives him the same passion for reading, though I suspect he is already there on that score.
In response to the daily prompt Conjure
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