SO here I am, reading New Moon for the second time. I think I am now at a good point in my life to read it, when I'm not bound to get totally immersed and depressed over Edward's absence (oops, did I spoil it?). Oh...I forget how great the kissing parts are. I think I'm roughly 14 years old. Wait...16. Let's make things legal here.
ANYWAY, here I am on TRAX, happily starting my book. I'm nearing my stop, so I sullenly close my book. I glance around the train for anything interesting and I see to the side of me on the opposite aisle, a man in work boots. Furthermore, dirty jeans and Carhartt jacket. Better yet, a nice bushy cop/fireman style 'stache. I'd say early 50's. Lo and behold, he has his nose buried in New Moon. BIZARRE!!!! Actually I'm betting his wife or his 14 year old daughter requested that he read the book. Either that, or he lost a bet.
I guess that just goes to show that literature touches the hearts of people of all stages of life in all situations and unites us in our love for a little Twilight....that was hideously cheesy...Edward is calling me now. :)
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