For all you out there, who is reading this right now, this minute, I salute to you. I, also are reading something quite peculiar, and

In fact it’s the same thing. I am far, far, away from any human, at this point in my life, living with my Mothers, half, adopted, book

Loving being named Breeze. She is called that due to the fact, of her windy life, she never lands.

She rang me one day, in the town room of books, as a “Gone with the Wind”Novel, rang of the shelf, Yelling Frankly I don’t give

A damn”. It finally stopped, when I picked up, as I secretly knew, it was for me.

I talked for hours to her, about my travels, through the pages of life, living my spirit through other’s adventures. She was asking

For some help, around the Villa, due to the seasons changing, and her bones weren’t getting any fresher. She was also lonely,

With just her spirits, and books in her life, but that is something she didn’t share, even with herself. Did I not tell you, she lives

above that there Town room of books. So that is where, I share a small corner of my life and mind, with dearest Aunt Breeze.

She denies the fact, that she is almost there, as far as human style. Oh sure, she has the bounce in her curl, strawberry red with

Tiny curls and a hint of spray. She never had a pet to cuddle or walk, or even say good night too. No love at all, she just didn’t know.

Her real love, lies in the millions of Books, Magazines, and as many National Geographic’s as far as the human eye can see.

She can open a book, from the cover to end, in a fast minute, and even tell you how many threads are holding this certain bound

Of thoughts together. I myself love to read, and so, this is my sanctuary place for my restless spirit, and endless mind. I spend hours

And hours, watching flying books hover above my head, in a world where you don’t even have to hold a book.

Breeze loved to read an entire room, in 24 hours, and sit outside, with a glass jug of endless Lemonade. It was made, with fresh lemons swimming around in happy slices, in that puckering drink. One long plastic color of pink, straw was attached to her wall unit, as she

Could unhook her drink anytime while she preached her book talk. No ringing for Lurch for that, save that for “the Adams Family”.

I slowly got used to her awesome, non-political, butt kicking, way of life, and she showed me, that you can live by books alone.

You see, later on the years, dear Aunt Breeze hung on, till she turned her last page, at the age of 119. Now I live in her building

Of books, sharing it with her spirits, books, and all her memories. Occasionally, I will feel a slight breeze and smile, knowing she

Is around with her nose in a book,keeping her eyes on me. Lights out Aunt Breeze