Dear Sherlock Holmes Audio Cassettes,
I remember laying in our living room, one of you on the walkman, getting lost in Victorian England while gazing out the window onto our 1980s-something suburban front yard.
You came in a big plastic box. And each time I was done with one there was the joy of going back to the box to snap it into place and unsnap the next. A literal treasure box.
You belonged to my grandmother, who was losing her eyesight and unable to read. It was the first experience I had ever had with audiobooks but it didn’t take long before I was in love – it’s a unique pleasure to have someone read you a story. Is there a German or a Japanese word for that?
Thanks for the hours of stories. Thanks for being a bridge between my grandmother and me.
Keep on telling your tales,
-e.