Boredom, a noun. The state of being bored, tedium, ennui. It didn't matter what she called it. Whether she referred to it as dullness, doldrums or weariness. It all equaled the same thing to her. Ros Myers found herself trapped on an island and bored
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"That's Arabic," Coraline said, looking at the book in the woman's lap. Coraline was wearing another one of Adam's castoffs, an overly large FBI t-shirt. The silver key tucked close to her chest. "I can write my name in Arabic but that's it."
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"What is your name?" Utterly as if she didn't know, for all that she asked it with terse politeness.
She did wonder why it would be that she would attract children.
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Coraline nodded, at the direction. "Okay, Ros." Coraline smiled. "How do you know Adam?"
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It was enough of an answer for a ten year old.
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Of course, some of the things Malcolm came up with were stunning in their elegant simplicity, but she wasn't about to share the details of them with anyone.
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"Sun Tsu? Doing some etra reading over summer break?"
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