I found my copy of The Little Prince. Downstairs. On my study table, beneath bigger paperbacks I find too technical to read. And then I remembered.

I read The Little Prince for the first time in the school library. They had a copy, but I remember reading it there. Just there. I think it was one of the books we weren't allowed to take out just yet. I suppose that is one reason why I became attached to it. Plot and allegories aside, I suppose the time I spent going back to the library for the sake of finishing the story made it all the more special.

At that time...I also started reading some of Lois Lowry's books. Number the Stars was the first. And then, The Giver. Gathering Blue came next. I remember reading Sidney Sheldon, too. What got me the most was Tell Me Your Dreams.

Nineteen Minutes, by Jodi Picoult.

I got too engrossed, that I sent quotes to my classmates. The ones I found interesting.

I remember reading two books in a row while waiting for our teacher, who never came. I forget what subject it was. But the day was humid and languid. It must have been in the afternoon. I forget what month. The sunshine streaming through the trees were golden, though. Both books were by R.L. Stine. One was Piano Lessons can be Murder. I remember, because of the red hardcover, and the disembodied hands.

Rita's Corner. With two long chairs, cushioned and soft. Shelves on two sides of the walls. Then, a line of windows.

Rita's Corner, containing Ronald Dahl. Artemis Fowl. Alex Rider. Bridge to Terabithia. And more.

There is this book I remember. Just the cover. I reckon it's got something to do about the World War. I forget which. But, there is a young boy. A teenager, I think. Not facing the reader. Perhaps. Was he sitting? He was overlooking something. Maybe. A mansion? I don't remember. But it was mostly green. The light, calm shade of green. The watercolor shade of green. That was the motif.

At the very back of the library, near the reception area, there are more shelves. One had Chicken Soup for the Soul. There were many versions. I remember reading a poem from there. I wrote it down, but I lost my copy. The poem's voice...was that of a little girl. Her father just died, and she said things I know I would have said back then.

"I miss you so much, daddy."

There was something like that in there, I think. I cried when I read that.

I've been searching for it, but I couldn't find it. The poem. I couldn't find the poem.

And God Cried, Too was another book we weren't allowed to bring home.

How many books have I read, and remembered? How many have I forgotten?