She looked at the paperback, then back at him. ‘Sounds like a lot of work for a rainy Friday.’
‘You’re right, it is work,’ he admitted, a sparkle of wit in his eyes. ‘But it’s one of the best kinds. A want is fleeting. You satisfy it, and twenty minutes later, you’re looking for the next thing to click on. But a read? A true read, like a true need, stays with you. It changes the shape of your brain, word by word.’
The woman was silent for a moment, the steady drumbeat of the rain filling the silence that settled between them. She looked at her smartphone, glowing with notifications and endless streams of content, and suddenly it felt uncomfortably overheated in her hand.
‘What’s it about anyway?’ she eventually asked, nodding towards the book.
The man opened the paperback to Chapter One. ‘Why don’t I start from the beginning, and you can see for yourself?’
She leaned back against the sofa cushions, crossing her arms, her phone forgotten on the coffee table. ‘Alright. Fire away.’ He cleared his throat, and as his voice filled the room, the walls of the flat felt ready to expand, dissolving into the cobblestone streets and foggy mornings of a world built entirely of words.
