Reading

For years Beth had been told by friends that she was an "open book." Until recently, this designation had never bothered her. Now she had all sorts of questions. What open book was she, and what page was the book turned to?Was she a novel, a comic book, an encyclopedia? She felt such paranoia when she thought about whether she was the kind of book that people finished, or if she was shut after a few pages and shelved forever -- left to rub shoulders with the classics, but never loved nor included. After weeks of panicked speed-reading in hopes of understanding who she was, Beth went to the city penitentiary in search of a group of illiterates whom she could befriend. She knew that they might all judge her by her cover, but that was fine for now -- she could write herself and teach her new friends how to read her.