I’ve been thinking about stories a lot these past few months. Reading has felt like a challenge, especially of late and holding on to the thread of a tale in the maze of real-life distractions and too-real horrors has felt like a herculean task. My mind repeatedly jitters back to wondering what a story is, the many things it can mean, and the even-more that a story can contain once it’s been told. Because until it’s been told, a story doesn’t really exist. It may be an idea, it may be history, but for something to be a
Of Stories, Memories and Escape
Of Stories, Memories and Escape
Of Stories, Memories and Escape
I’ve been thinking about stories a lot these past few months. Reading has felt like a challenge, especially of late and holding on to the thread of a tale in the maze of real-life distractions and too-real horrors has felt like a herculean task. My mind repeatedly jitters back to wondering what a story is, the many things it can mean, and the even-more that a story can contain once it’s been told. Because until it’s been told, a story doesn’t really exist. It may be an idea, it may be history, but for something to be a