On a rainy, blustery morning, I left my room with a thick, thick book. The rain came down and I thought to myself:
“What an inconvenience it is to have to carry this book on this rainy, blustery morning. But it musn’t get wet.”
So I unzipped my hoodie and pressed it against my breast.
I walked along 125th and St. Nicholas and the book was getting heavier. I thought to myself:
“My arms hurt. I’ll never carry this book around again.”
Then I heard tires screeching against the asphalt. Before I knew it, a car called Ignorance screamed past. The windows rolled down and a hand emerged. In his hand was a gun…by the looks of it a .22 caliber Apathy.
It shot a single bullet and it struck me. I crashed to the floor as the car disappeared.
The rain came down and I felt it on my face. I was alive.
The thick, thick book had guarded my heart and saved my life.
And I thought to myself:
“I will carry this book on my heart for the rest of my days.”