When we moved back into our house, the chore of sorting through what seemed an endless tide of boxes of books fell to yours truly. It was only fair. A good eighty to ninety percent of the books in this house are mine anyway. And of course I didn’t mind, reconnecting with what I could consider friends, some of which have been with me since high school. As I sorted and unpacked, I realized that I wanted to reread a vast number of them. Now, some of these books I could probably rewrite from memory. But I wanted to reread them none the less. Like I just said, some of these books, they’re like friends.