Crammed into a cozy little reading nook?
Sprawled on the bed with the covers askew?
Flat on the couch?
Curled in the fetal position in an over-stuffed armchair?
On a Kindle, or with paper pages between your fingers?
Trade paperback, mass market paperback?
Dust jacket as bookmark? Slip of scratch paper as bookmark? Souvenir from Powell’s as bookmark?
With a frown?
Lips following along to the written words?
To your daughter? To your husband?
In the sunshine or under a kerosene lamp?
I’d like to know.