It’s winter outside, cold, dark, breezy, perfect for wrapping up, getting a fire going outside, drinking a glass of wine. Or four. Then I thought, I’ve never burned a book, maybe I should try it, just to see what it feels like. Throw one in the flames. Just some crap book, some old rubbish. Chuck it on the fire.
The thought made me shudder. There’s something not even remotely funny about burning books. It’s up there with vandalising a church, I think it’s even worse.
So, the books are safe.
The wine, not so safe.