Why is it that sometimes
I just want to close the pages of my own story for
Awhile
and step
in
to
the pages of
someone else’s?
Their stories; all the Jane’s, Scout’s and Jem’s, Meg’s, Tom’s, Mr. Blakesley’s or Darcey’s
aren’t better or worse than mine.
I guess it’s just that when I’m
reading theirs, I’m
observing mine.
And I need that
distance to improve my
objectivity.