#slow reading

[cherryteapink]

A step longer than the distance between us (1 part)

Logan Howlett ( comics books version) x tall fem reader

Sometimes the opposite gives notes of contradiction and non-standard. Calmness, pleasant intonation of voice, care, but tall stature and insecurity.

That's how you could be described, if anyone could describe you. From your early days as an X-Man, you drew attention because you were 6'1" tall, but that also gave you a certain grace. The concern, that look that gave a slight touch of calm to the person you were talking to, the way you leaned forward and tilted your head, that habit of listening intently to someone.

Logan watched this, your smell, your manner of speaking, your gestures.. He remembered your first meeting with him, because when he was again annoyed with Scott and hurried along the corridor of the estate, he bumped into you, out of habit, unceremoniously said a couple of swear words, you only looked at him worriedly and tilted your head to the side and apologized for it. This gesture is in his memory, the pleasant smell of vanilla and a friendly look with a hint of uncertainty.

This rude mutant didn't really talk to you, he didn't need to, but he asked for details. For example, evening, it meant that he could hear the rustle of the book you were reading.. Warm slow rain, it meant a walk in the open air to forget about worries.. Daisies, it was when you went to the forest after training and collected them, and then these flowers could be in a vase near the balcony of your room..

It was Friday, classes were over and training too, Logan wanted to have a drink at the bar, maybe start a fight there. Oh, the bar was his favorite, Logan ordered a whiskey drink, another, another, and another. He didn't care about the hangover, having a healing factor. 12 o'clock at night, Logan returned to the estate and saw the light in the kitchen. He opened the door and saw you making herbal tea, your floral print nightgown fluttering as you walked. You looked up and only modestly said without judgment - "hard day?"

What did you put your cup of tea on and mumble - "insomnia, there are nights when I can't sleep.."

Logan nodded, these were rare moments when the two of you chatted outside of the mission, training or some other topic. You paid attention, always noticing the small details, that he was irritated by something and without pressure you placed a cup with a calming brew next to him, which usually helped many and taking the cup with your tea you left. Logan looked at the cup and then at your tall figure who surrendered and then hesitantly took it sniffing the brew first and tasted it, it tasted pleasant, something like peach and some other healing herbs, which gave a multifaceted taste.

[phoenixmoonn]

If this short passage spoke to your soul… Discover and support my work through the link pinned in my profile.

[roei914]

Now Reading

I need to just focus on other things instead of celebrity drama that doesn’t do anything for me. i finally finished the first book in the outlander series. Only took forever. Started Dragonfly in Amber a week or so ago. Slow start to reading due to vacation but here in bed reading as this HS and ZK stuff is making me feel eww.

[joysiwrites]

On Not Wanting to Be Articulate All the Time

Reading, thinking, and learning to pause

“Learning to read slowly in a world that keeps asking me to explain myself.”

[milk-and-wildflowers]

🪴 Three Ways Into the Garden

If you’re here,

you’ve found the garden.

It grows quietly,

between stories and stillness,

in the hush between memory and blooming.

🌿 The Milward Garden

This is the heart of it all.

Where every word breathes,

and every page waits with open hands.

You don’t have to knock.

You’re already home.

🪞 The Garden Gate

If you need a place to begin,

start here.

A soft welcome,

a teacup still warm,

a chair pulled out just for you.

📖 The Milward Story Collection

And when you’re ready—

the stories.

Four quiet books.

Full of sisters, letters, losses,

and love that lingers like perfume on a collar.

Read them slowly.

Or all at once.

They’ll wait for you.

We’re glad you came.

We’ve saved your place.

And the garden

remembers you.

[valentina-lauricella]

Sto leggendo i racconti di Feria d'agosto: per evitare di dimenticarli una volta letti, ne sto facendo degli stringati riassunti man mano che li vado leggendo. Se mi avessero assegnato questo compito quando andavo a scuola, lo avrei svolto con insofferenza. Adesso, invece, lo faccio con l'entusiasmo con cui si notano i segni particolari di una persona interessante, quelli che sembra ce ne facciano innamorare. Eccoli:

LA SERPE

Magia simbolico-ancestrale della parola.

FINE D'AGOSTO

La donna, volenterosa ma insufficiente oggettivazione dell'inesplicabile mondo che l'uomo si porta dentro.

VECCHIO MESTIERE

Nostalgia per la vita semplice, più naturalmente disciplinata e costruttiva, di una volta, desiderio che la vita scorra su binari predestinati di dovere, per aver diritto al piacere dell'entusiasmo per la vita stessa.

L'EREMITA

Un vedovo con un figlio preadolescente: quest'ultimo resta affascinato da un vagabondo e ne fa un momentaneo sostituto della figura paterna.

LA GIACCHETTA DI CUOIO

Un ragazzo vuole imparare il mestiere e la vita da un maturo barcaiolo, il quale però soffre per una donna che lo tradisce e si rovina definitivamente strozzandola e gettandola nel Po. Fine di un modello di vita. Anche i migliori si rovinano per le donne.

PRIMO AMORE

Un ragazzino fa a botte per difendere l'onore della sorella di un suo amico, che però amoreggia con uno molto più adulto di lui. Il primo amore, mai espresso nemmeno a sé stesso, gli fa venire il desiderio di mostrarsi coraggioso e adulto.

IL MARE

Il viaggio di un ragazzo, abitante di collina,  verso il mare che non ha mai visto; ma non lo vedrà, perché dopo due giorni di vita selvaggia sulla strada, incontra un amico più grande con il quale gli sembra naturale riavviarsi verso casa, dove lo aspettano.

IL PRATO DEI MORTI

In uno spiazzo fuori mano, vengono le persone a due a due: un assassino e la vittima. Parlano stancamente, come compiendo un rito; poi, avviene il delitto, come un evento in fondo risaputo. Il cadavere rimane solo sotto la luna. Ma una notte i morti sono due, vittime di due delitti: e allora, finché c'è la luce della luna, parlano tra loro, dicendo ciò che direbbero se fossero vivi. Racconto sospeso, surreale, magico pur nell'efferarezza dei gesti narrati.

SOGNI AL CAMPO

Descrizione dello stato d'animo di detenuti in un campo di lavoro, la cui vita vera si concentra nei sogni della notte, fino a mantenerli anche di giorno in uno stato di irrealtà. Un pezzo di bravura dove si cerca di esprimere sensazioni psico-fisiche familiari, ma intraducibili, come spesso accade in Pavese, con accostamenti e metafore letterariamente eleganti. Nulla dell'orrore è narrato, ma solo suggerito dallo stato di straniamento in cui vivono i prigionieri.

UNA CERTEZZA

Confessione virtuosistica dell'angolo (dell'abisso, dell'infinito) che Pavese ha dentro di sé, sicuro e assoluto, più importante di tutti gli avvenimenti che decide di vivere. Dice che è il sé stesso ragazzo, con cui andava d'accordo: è l'armonia dell'essere, l'integrazione delle sue varie componenti, che risulta invece frantumata nella vita successiva.

[exhaled-spirals]

« It is often said that a person can only read about five thousand books in a lifetime. It is a small range of books given the accelerating quantity available to us. This limitation might lead some readers to rush their reading, thereby increasing the number of books. This response turns a reader into a tourist, jumping from experience to experience, noting only the highlights, being able to say he or she has done it, though not entirely sure what was done. Another response is to simply and happily acknowledge that life is indeed short, and that our smaller selection of books represents a unique expression of our character. This second choice removes the needless pressure from reading, and restores it as a great pleasure. »

— John Miedema, Slow Reading