Chapter 19
In the time I’ve been here, Esmé has shown herself to be a slow but faithful Reader.
She begins each morning by removing the photos of herself and Tariq from my pages. After smiling and caressing the photos, she takes her index finger, kisses it, then places her fingertip on his lips. She lays the photos on the table, and sits cross-legged on her sofa with me in one hand, a pencil in the other and the pompous Dictionary at her side.
As she reads me, she underlines a few words on each page. She writes these words in her notebook, then takes the ever-annoying Dictionary and jots down their definitions. I’m not sure how often she’ll need to use the word ‘spittoon’ in Paris, but I’m impressed by her dedication. I just hope she’s interested in my story, not just my opportunity to
