Books.
I have never been able to get enough of them.
For as long as I can remember I have been enamoured with the excitement of page-turning; the what's going to happen next moment. From '"The Signora had no business to do it", said Miss Bartleman..."' to discovering that Grover was the "Monster at the End of this Book" (sorry for the spoiler). From my earliest memories of my mother reading to me from a collection of Little Golden Books, to learning that sounding out letters would form a word, and those words sentences, the love of reading has never faltered.
I still devour books: new books, old books; fiction, literature, non-fiction; cookbooks, travel books, craft books.
Every answer in the world can be found in pages, and holding knowledge in the palm of your hand is still infinitely more satisfying than the immediate satisfaction of google or wiki.
Any need to escape from reality lies waiting with the soft crease of a spine and the crisp turn of a page.
Books foster imagination, educate, entertain, comfort and instruct. They are perfect companions in bed, bath, beach, airplane, or anywhere else life takes you. There is no other companion so versatile.
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