Just as every word is just a sound we’ve agreed to give meaning to. No different to the twittering of birds, or the barks of monkeys and baboons.
Then we invented little squiggles and shapes, called them letters, and arranged them so that somehow hold entire conversations.
Writing is basically a silent recording of sounds, waiting for someone to bring them back to life by reading them, either out loud or inside their head.
And somehow, out of all those made-up sounds and squiggles, one particular combination makes you turn your head when someone calls it. Or makes you smile. Or makes you feel loved.
Isn’t that a little bit magical?