I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

Neo doesn’t say anything else. He places another book in front of
me. This one is Lord of the Flies. It’s a bit smaller, a pig bleeding
from the eyes on the cover. It takes me a day to read. I bring both
books back to him that night.
“I didn’t like this one,” I tell him.
Neo quirks a brow, an apple in his hand. “Why not?”
“I don’t like violence.”
“It’s not real violence,” he says, tucking the books back in that box.
“It feels real.”
“Weirdo,” Neo grumbles. He grabs another book and hands it to me.
This one is called Wuthering Heights. The cover has an old house on
it, a woman and a man in the foreground beneath dreary skies.
There are so many books Neo teaches me. My curiosity turns
absolutely fatal. It wonders about all those beautiful things Neo
writes and what stories his mind could possibly conjure.
“Could I read something of yours?” I ask.
“No. Go away.”
And so, I’m off to read Wuthering Heights.
The next morning, I run, beyond eager to tell Neo how wonderful this
story is. That it’s my favorite yet. That there isn’t a single word I
could stop at.
That despite the violence, this must be a masterpiece if it isn’t
considered one already. I sprint to his room, no tray in hand.
“I thought we were past this!”