When I was a kid, there was not much I liked better than getting a new bookmark. I ain’t lyin’, even today you could get away with buying me a pretty bookmark as a gift and I would think you were the Greatest Person Ever. I’ve made my own more times than I can count, from ripping off a strip of paper to intricate designs involving ribbons and beads.
(I mean, there’s nothing more criminal than dog-earing a book. I avoid it however I can.)
There are just some things that make reading more precious. More personal. More Ours.
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