Member-only story
The Boy Who Devoured Stories
But that was only one part of who he was.
I should have had an inkling that we would be kindred spirits of a kind when I saw the first book he brought to work.
It was an urban fantasy novel by a well-known author — and, as soon as my eyes caught these details, I thought, “Huh.”
You know someone’s cool when they actually read for fun. That’s a rare thing these days — especially when the person is reading a book of all things rather than something on a screen!
But it would be years before I discovered anything truly real about this boy. Getting to know him was not an easy matter — he didn’t make it easy for anyone — but the outline of him began to fill out over time.
I still couldn’t tell you a thing about him personally. I don’t know any names of his friends and family. I know the barest bits about how he spends his time. I only know as much as I do about him because of mutual friends, not through anything he’s told me himself.
But stories? They were our one shared space.
It was easy to talk to him when worlds, characters, and plots were involved. I don’t think there was ever a dull moment when we could actually discuss the stories that were worth the time and effort to go through.
