That someone had written in this book was unexpected, sure, but not uncommon. I knew that many people read the book Jane Eyre. Most were juniors from the closest high school, performing the rudimentary task with unenthusiastic doggedness. I could tell by the way they slouched in that they didn't want to be there, that they were forced either by a well-meaning teacher or a strict guardian to get their grades up. You ran into a lot of that here, unimpressed and unaspiring.
The next comment in my book was not of that breed.
YOU ARE READING
Meeting in the Margins
Short StoryCassidy and Drex are strangers. They've never met, they don't know the other's last names, and they don't know the other's age. But they share one thing in common. They converse through the pages of an English classic at the town library. The pair's...
