cted: my t index finger  many pages left. tently until I tilted to c rue. teentale must be a very s one.

    I continued my reading, finisale turned the page.

    Blank.

    I flicked back, forhing.

    teentale.

    t too fast to the surface.

    Aspects of my room came back into vieill s t o creep in tains.

    It was morning.

    I  away.

    teentale.

    In tting at tairs and looked up, we-faced.

    ‘ever is it?“ I darted forward.

    oo so speak; o a mute gesture of desperation before slohemselves over his horrified eyes. he groaned.

    My  I am not in t of touc fell instead to t he back of his chair.

    ‘Is thing I can do?“ I asked.

    o pe. In a minute…”

    ‘t’s happened?“

    ‘A break-in.“  sound like the world.

    I looked around t and in order. t been forced, t ransacked, t broken.

    ‘t,“ o understand.

    ‘teen tales.“ I spoke firmly. ”Upstairs in my flat. I borro.“

    Fat me. ter astonis. “You borro?”

    ‘Yes.“

    “You borro?”

    ‘Yes.“ I he shop, as he knew.

    ‘But Vida inter…?“

    And I realized t some kind of explanation was called for.

    I read old novels. torations, tragic separations and un falls and dreams fulfilled; titute an ending . ter adventures, perils, dangers and dilemmas, and ly. Endings like to be found more commonly in old novels than new ones, so I read old novels.

    Contemporary literature is a tle of. My fataken me to task on topic many time