magically becomes

Sometimes I read old stories from my blog to my mother. She is the perfect audience.
Today we enjoyed animal stories together.
I remember reading excerpts from books to her over the years; bits and pieces for her entertainment.
And I remember reading paragraphs from school assignments and even snippets of Dick and Jane for her applause.
I've always loved books.

Stories make up the fabric of our everyday.
And writing, although a solitary pleasure, magically becomes in the reading,  a shared enjoyment.