It’s an exceptionally sunny December day. There are no clouds in the sky and it is surprisingly warm, so most people are laughing and talking to their friends — socializing to celebrate the unseasonal weather. But you, stranger, are sitting on a bench in the shade with your feet up on the space next to you, as if ensuring no one else will sit down. You hold a book with both hands and are reading intently, eyes looking left and right in a space no larger than that of the pages in your hands. You have a rather slim build and you’re wearing glasses. Your clothes are modestly fashionable: jeans, a dark sweater with a collared shirt underneath and black Vans.

I wonder what you’re reading, stranger. I think the story must be quite fascinating from the way you are so focused. Or perhaps it’s not that captivating — just more so than your surroundings. You seem to be quite satisfied just sitting there, absorbed into a world outlined by the words you read, filled in with your imagination.

If all you want to do is read, stranger, I wonder why you’ve lingered here after school to do so. With all the laughing and chatter around you, it hardly makes for an ideal reading environment. But you are almost hidden by the overhang on the side of the library you, and someone could easily pass by without seeing you. Even though the light is dim where you sit, you stay anyway. You’re probably just waiting to leave, to get picked up and go home and read in peace.

I think you are the type of person who feels most secure when you are alone. You probably feel more comfortable not interacting too much with others. You don’t have to carry their burdens or worry that they’ll let you down. Instead, you escape into the world of books, where every line stays the same and stories never change. I think you’re tired of inconsistency, stranger. You’re trying to find a safe place — a place that’s quiet and not filled with distractions. But stranger, I think you should try being with others. Even though interacting with people may seem risky, the searching look in your eyes tells me someday, a two-dimensional plot line won’t be enough to satisfy you.

Take a chance, stranger. Look up from your book once in a while.

Regards,
Amelia