“What did you do last summer?” “What book have you read?”
Or worse… “What is your favorite writer?”
Those cliche essays that probably all of us had to write down as some point of our lives.
Like as if it really interested someone at that time.
The student was too little with a remote experience in some sort of a taste in literature… and the teacher… not too inspired, not to say bored perhaps, to conceive a creative subject.
Yep, i was in that line…never had a favorite writer until some time ago.
And when discovering him I was dazzled …
Where are you now, teacher, to tell you all about it?
To write you that 200 words essay.
Not writing about who he is…as you resumed of asking back then when you were my age.
But about how it feels like to find bits and pieces from your own soul in someone else’s pages?
How it feels to read a paragraph with the most sincere smile thinking: “these are my exact words”?
It’s not exciting having a favorite author… it’s mind blowing to find yourself in some other being..
Hey teacher, can you write an essay on this now?
Because I surely deserve an A plus for feeling this way…
Thank you mister 😉