For Natasha L Scragg's Contest " The Power Of Fiction". Dated September 25, 2026.
The splendor of books enthralled me early in life, being attracted by the weird animations imprinted in them. The nascent imagination of the five-year old morphed within me as an exploring book worm. I grew up with other timely interests in the transit, many passing passions came and went, but looking for mystery the childhood book worm grew as a constant companion creeping secretively in my head. The lure of books attracted me to the bookshops like an obsessed honey bee to the posy of flowers. I enjoyed the flavor of the mystifying nectar, concealed in the suspense scripted by Doyle or Christie. In my journey through the corridors of unveiling mystery, created by Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot, I took up their roles till I reached the precinct of the last pages where the ace sleuths solved the enigmatic puzzles. Although my old myopic eyes degenerated very much, the strain over the years made the failing vision blurred, the senile book worm still crawls to find the mystery clues, letting me feel the power of fiction.
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