The man chuckled at my serious declaration. He shook his head, "That seems like a twisted reason to like a character."
I just shrugged, "I'm just telling the truth." I looked back to the book in my hands and frowned, "It's a shame you don't know what happens to him in the end though."
We sat in silence for a while and the man calmly smoked his cigarette while staring at me with a small smirk. He finished his cigarette and tossed it onto the ground, grinding it with his foot.
"Well, you seem to really enjoy reading."
I stared at the book in my hand with a tender gaze. "I suppose I do."
I had almost forgot how much I looked forward to receiving a book from my neighbor. I never really cared what it was, or even if it was cringe worthy or cheesy.
Those stories were my escape. And at one point, they were the only thing that brought me joy.
He spoke, "Well... If you'd like... I could really use a part timer to work here."
I looked up at him with startled eyes, "What?"
