"...aloud"

One of the unknowing effects of living as a partial or overt Shut-in is that you don't speak,...much. Other than to folks at the post office market or lately Library. I don't actually speak. The Home bound don't.

We don't notice either.

We read write go online listen to radio music, and such, but don't have many actual conversations. I just noticed I haven't spoken in a prolonged way in perhaps a month. 

So I began to recite. This evening I wrote up a schedule of things I would read from.

I began several hours ago by reading aloud passages from a book by Christopher Isherwood. "Christopher, and his Kind 1929~1939".

About the physical volume. I bought it on December, 10th in the year 1976. I was 26, and a gay blade. I found the actual bill of sale within,...I had forgotten I still had it. 

See photos...

It was inscribed to me by Mr. Isherwood who was by chance at the book store. The first openly Queer book store then in NYC.

He was a kind fragile bright personality. At the time I thought him elderly. I think I may be older than him now. Yet our meeting seems just a few months ago.

So I read portions of three chapters aloud. This reminded me of my broadcast time when I would read stories to the listeners in the deep of night. This over many years.

Now I read again. Only now for an audience of one. Still it was as fulfilling tonight as it was for all those years.