He climbed inside his first story as a child, hiding from what he heard in world where pictures did the talking.
Words saved him; each letter learnt a tiny escape, letting every sentence cast it’s magic spell.
He was quick to replicate the magic trick, writing all the time, until fiction bought him a ticket out of town.
His books took him further away, until the day the doctor called.
On the hospital ward, he held his old man’s hand, reciting poems, wondering whether he could understand.
Finally realising life was a novel you only get one chance to read.
Words saved him; each letter learnt a tiny escape, letting every sentence cast it’s magic spell.
He was quick to replicate the magic trick, writing all the time, until fiction bought him a ticket out of town.
His books took him further away, until the day the doctor called.
On the hospital ward, he held his old man’s hand, reciting poems, wondering whether he could understand.
Finally realising life was a novel you only get one chance to read.
