Kindling The Fires Of Hatred

So you can pick up a Kindle now for £59. I still don't want one. I will never want one, nor need one, nor see the point in them. I despise the idea. My new phone (I got a new phone) has Nokia Read, which is effectively the same concept. I have been forced to use it since this week's novel was nowhere to be found in local bookshops. I hate it. I hate having to read everything 'off a bloody screen'. I miss turning pages, instead of swiping. I miss page numbers, and trying my hardest not to see them, so when I do finally notice the digit in the bottom right corner I am surprised, and victorious in my reading speed. I miss marking page numbers down, simply to record the most deft of lines: '"Hope!" he might bellow, "your mother is having a fit of hysteria. It's spectacular!"'. I miss estimating how far I am through, instead of being presented with a percentage. I miss blank pages, and pages cut short at the end of a chapter. I miss setting myself targets before I take my next break. I miss flicking through at speed. Seriously, nobody ever buy me a Kindle. Waste of money, and I can guarantee you I will end up using it as nothing more than a tray to roll cigarettes over.