Some people love to read books in front of crackling fires, cozy and sheltered from wintry weather. A mug of steaming hot cocoa, snug under a blanket, enraptured by a book.
Not me. I'm a summer fiction reader, and my private season of literary indulgence started today.
Half-reclining on a living room couch. Front window open, fragrant warm breezes wafting through our home. Filtered sun dappling my shoulders. Ice cubes bobbing in amber tea.
The faint sound of Andrea practicing her guitar. Ron dozing in front of TV baseball.
And me, savoring the dreamy pleasures of a book I've long intended to read.
Let summer begin!
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