Fill: in the moonlight, on a joy ride [1a]
anonymous
September 20 2011, 14:21:40 UTC
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Charles has always loved to read.
He remembers finding a copy of Wuthering Heights in his Mother’s room, back when he was thirteen and the world revolved around using baking soda and vinegar and figuring different ways to build exploding rockets.
Strictly speaking they weren’t meant to be Mother’s room, but she was out and Raven had agreed to be watcher. So Hank and Charles set the rocket up, and then, because they were feeling adventurous built a volcano too. Except it had gone horribly wrong and the room stank of vinegar for days after.
Charles definitely didn’t expect her copy of Wuthering Heights to get covered in the ghastly stuff.
Hank had picked the book up, later, after they’d stared at the rain of froth in wonder and fear, and handed it to him, pages soggy and dripping in vinegar.
Charles had no choice but to replace it, find the exact copy, because thankfully the cover was still intact, and put it away on the bookshelf, Mother none the wiser.
God it has taken days, bloody days just to find the right one. He’d gone to so many book shops, little independent stores tucked away in corners, places he didn’t know even existed. But he found it, Raven of course being very little help, opting to skip along the rows, sticking her head out from the shelves and scaring the crap out of customers instead of helping Charles.
What Charles didn’t expect was to read Wuthering Heights. No. That wasn’t part of the plan. He couldn’t help but go back and buy another copy, just for himself, and because he was there he though he might as well look around, check the Classics section, for research purposes obviously.
There was something about it; history sitting in his hands, dried paper and splotchy ink stains all over his fingertips.
It was a revelation. It was like discovering porn. The U rated version, of course.
****
Charles is sixteen the first time he sees the advert on the notice board outside his World History class. It’s a recruitment flyer for a summer job at the local library. They are looking for part time help, but only for the summer.
That part’s made explicitly clear.
He doesn’t think much of it at the time.
But while he’s sitting in the library with Hank and going through their Spanish homework that Charles decides maybe it’s not such a bad idea to work here. He spends most of his time here, and knows the place much better than he ought to. Maybe it’s not a bad idea.
Charles has always loved to read.
He remembers finding a copy of Wuthering Heights in his Mother’s room, back when he was thirteen and the world revolved around using baking soda and vinegar and figuring different ways to build exploding rockets.
Strictly speaking they weren’t meant to be Mother’s room, but she was out and Raven had agreed to be watcher. So Hank and Charles set the rocket up, and then, because they were feeling adventurous built a volcano too. Except it had gone horribly wrong and the room stank of vinegar for days after.
Charles definitely didn’t expect her copy of Wuthering Heights to get covered in the ghastly stuff.
Hank had picked the book up, later, after they’d stared at the rain of froth in wonder and fear, and handed it to him, pages soggy and dripping in vinegar.
Charles had no choice but to replace it, find the exact copy, because thankfully the cover was still intact, and put it away on the bookshelf, Mother none the wiser.
God it has taken days, bloody days just to find the right one. He’d gone to so many book shops, little independent stores tucked away in corners, places he didn’t know even existed. But he found it, Raven of course being very little help, opting to skip along the rows, sticking her head out from the shelves and scaring the crap out of customers instead of helping Charles.
What Charles didn’t expect was to read Wuthering Heights. No. That wasn’t part of the plan. He couldn’t help but go back and buy another copy, just for himself, and because he was there he though he might as well look around, check the Classics section, for research purposes obviously.
There was something about it; history sitting in his hands, dried paper and splotchy ink stains all over his fingertips.
It was a revelation. It was like discovering porn. The U rated version, of course.
****
Charles is sixteen the first time he sees the advert on the notice board outside his World History class. It’s a recruitment flyer for a summer job at the local library. They are looking for part time help, but only for the summer.
That part’s made explicitly clear.
He doesn’t think much of it at the time.
But while he’s sitting in the library with Hank and going through their Spanish homework that Charles decides maybe it’s not such a bad idea to work here. He spends most of his time here, and knows the place much better than he ought to. Maybe it’s not a bad idea.
****
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