In the third week I quit. I felt like this was purposeless. There seemed to be no end. What if there wasn’t an end? What if Dolores was right? What if there was an infinite number of books, what if there really was no end? Suddenly, I missed my new friends. I had only known them a little over a week, but I’d formed a bond with them and, out here, I had not met anyone else I’d become so attached to. I wanted to see them and talk to them. I wanted to hear Biscuit talk about his sack. I wanted to listen to Larisa laugh.
