People say that readers become writers. From the time I could read, stories absorbed me. In time, I formed a sense of a story I couldn’t find anywhere. I dreamed of a cabin in the woods where I could write that story without distractions. That never happened. Instead, amidst a life filled with distractions, stories came to find me from time to time.
I love this story just all by itself. It could be presented in black type on a white background and I would be happy to share it. These beautiful illustrations give the story a presence it doesn’t have just in type.
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