Lost and Found

by Orson Scott Card

“Stop being a language nazi,” he said. “What if I can’t bear to say the word ‘dead’? What if that word is a knife in my heart? What’s wrong with my joining the entire English language and saying that she’s lost? Just because you have this talent for finding things doesn’t mean that this wonderful woman isn’t lost to me.”

Are you really a snob about small towns?” “I didn’t choose this place,” said Ezekiel. “I was brung.” “So your natural habitat is what, Atlanta?” “I don’t want to live in a city so big they have to cinch it in with a beltway,” said Ezekiel. “Just a place that has a bookstore and a Baskin-Robbins.” “Pretty demanding. You’re kind of a spoiled brat, you know.” “Or a library with books printed after the Copyright Act of 1978.” “Knowing you, I’m betting there really was a copyright act in 1978.” “Wouldn’t be funny otherwise,” said Ezekiel. “Oh,” said Shank. “Didn’t know it was funny.” “It wasn’t. Not to you. Just to me.”