(Untitled)

[52_dropoff]

Charlie thumbs through the rather vast collection of poems the Bar provided today. Some of the stuff he knows, much he doesn't. Some is good, some is crap.

And he's dogearred several pages of note.

Comments

[realmrsreynolds]

"Oh, good - I thought I was the only person I knew who did that," Sallie walks up behind Charlie, launching right into a commentary on the folded-over page corners instead of a hello.

The book itself however is regarded with a kind of cheerful wariness.

"We can't possibly be readin' that whole thing today."

[52_dropoff]

"We won't be doing a lot of this book. It's a convenient anthology, the sort they use in colleges. And between you and me, some of what's here is junk.

"But the good stuff makes up for it. Which is what I'm marking. And I have never been one for bookmarks." Something that used to drive his mentor and housemate, Tot Rodor, nuts. "Chronological or random order?"

[realmrsreynolds]

"Random. Your favorites? Wait, let me get somethin' to drink first - you want anything?"

It gives Sallie a second to process having seen Charlie again as he actually is. It's not too much of a shock - she's happy for him to be back to normal, even - but it does bring a small amount of uncertainty into how this is all going to go.

[52_dropoff]

"Some water, and a peppermint tea?" He's trying not to think about what anything might mean today. Not yet, at any rate. Today, he just wants to play professor. And maybe to revel in being the right age again.

He leafs through to the sections with the Brownings.