xxxvii

“Beware of the man of one book.”

-St. Thomas Aquinas

            I have spent today picking out the books that I want to take to college, each hardcover volume being neatly shoved into the cardboard corners of foldable monoliths, closed with the cheap masking tape that I found in the garage.

            There are four boxes Pisa-stacked on top of each other, comic books cooperating with the fifty page plays and the political memoirs (for insomniac nights) lying snugly next to Harry Potter and the Five Pound Novel.

            These are the familiar words and the dog-eared pages that I remember fondly, hidden from teacher’s eyes in middle school, teaching me how to speed read and comprehend, teaching me how to allow my GPA to plummet tens of points.

           

            These are the parts of my room that I am taking with me, sealed up and caddy-cornered into the trunk of the rental van, quietly waiting for the inevitable late-night perusals and that clear moment of recognition when all this heavy-lifting becomes suddenly worth it.