Earlier yesterday my sister switched off reading pages and passages from Thomas Hardy's "The Mayor Casterbridge" while waiting for a doctor's appointment at an urgent care facility. Her initial hesitancy, best manifested/demonstrated in her insiduous attempts to weazle out of the reading by claiming that she lost the book, soon turned into an engaged reading session-as we stayed, parked on my driveway 10 extra minutes before going inside to finish up a chapter. And is my pathetically nerdy attempt to generate a deeper interest in the text. I call it the high school, celebrity-focused gossip girl approach :
Me wrote at 4:47pm
dude-i can't believe he sold her to the sailor! I wonder how that relationship is going to work out. What do you think?
Sister wrote at 5:07pm
i think he is going to treat herr better than her drunk husband!
i should find out huh?
Me wrote at 5:07pm
yes-and im in the market to find out with you!