– …she is crazy. Perhaps she needs to get some medication. We need to keep an eye on her.
13 years ago.
She closed her eyes. She liked sitting in the dark, while he was sleeping next to her.
What are the chances? How could this book evoke even the slightest of interest in her; she was wondering brushing her fingers agains the smooth cover. This man is an alcoholic with sick imagination. How can his writing appeal to a young soul, so tender, and vulnerable in its search for truth?
What is truth?
According to this man, truth sucks. Truth hurts. Truth is raw. It doesn’t cover up. It almost is never pretty.
She knew well enough there was a reason why they’ve meet. Could it be the first clue on her journey? A slight glimpse of what’s to come? Why did he have to bring this book today? What is the lesson?
The lesson is always the same. The teachers are different. The classroom changes. We always choose our homework though. Always. In fact, somewhere along the way, when it comes to passing the exam, the teacher is not there. Where did the teacher go?
There’s no teacher. She knew there will be no answer. Not the way she would want it to be, anyhow.
The lesson will be mastered sooner or later.
She looked at the book, once more.
We must bring our own light into the darkness.
Nobody is coming to do it for us.
She knew, she will think about this book for the rest of her life…