I think the moment I realised, if I hadn’t realised earlier, was after she threw the novel she had finished reading into the nearest garbage bin on our walk home.
She was silent that entire walk, the only sound between the two of us being her thumb running roughly against the fore edge. She let the book slip out of her fingers into the garbage without a second thought. I questioned her, shocked, why she could easily throw a story like that away. All she gave me in return was a shrug and a casual, ‘It sucked.’
This girl was her own incomparable story. She hunted adventure and lived on cliffhangers. I was merely a background character in a story most people would be lucky to read.
It was her world, completely her world. The rest of us just live here.
Words by Carli Stasinopoulos.
Images by Nicole Faiello.
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