Birds have wings, humans have books.
Overhead-in-Bed brings you to a better place.
No journey happens without its conveyance, and the best journeys, the treks fraught with peril, anticipatory with delight and desirous of deliverance, deftly transport the reader along with their characters to meet and engage their fates.
“Books are the plane and the train and the road. They are the destination and the journey.” ~ Anna Quindlen
If a good book is a way to escape, Overhead-in-Bed is your Magic Carpet.
It's Longfellow's ships that pass in the night and Gabriel's pirogue that slides past a sleeping Evangeline so close yet so far away through the mists of Bayou Teche.
It's the tumbrel in A Tale of Two Cities that conveys shocked aristocrats on their noisy, spat-upon ride to the sibilant whisper of the guillotine.
In John Le Carre's Cold War Berlin, this is the Trabi that secretes you past Checkpoint Charlie into a spider snare that's not just a double-cross, but a philosophized, parallax, triple-cross.
It's Dorothy's slippers, Jack London's dogsled, and Huck Finn's raft.
It's the Karnak in Death on the Nile. It's the crystal torpedo in Voyage to Arcturus. It's Darwin's Beagle and Jules Verne's Nautilus. It's Neal Stephenson's Minerva, zigzagging away from pirate-pursuit in Cape Cod Bay, assured against capture through some exigent, dead-reckoning trigonometry plotted by his renaissance man, Daniel Waterhouse.
"There is no frigate like a book to take us lands away." ~ Emily Dickinson
As planes lift and boats glide, as balloons loft and cars ride, OHIB obviates the bothersome physical positioning required by reading the old fashioned way to be carried off into the theater of the mind.
Above your eyes, with your book in stationary free float, fly across the universe, feel the thrill of existence and travel through time effortlessly beneath Overhead-in-Bed.
“To dream of afar, to chase a star, to believe in Captain Hook. To dance with bears and have no cares, this is the magic of a book.” ~ H.L. Stephens