There are piles of papers and books everywhere, threatening to topple over. I estimate that there are two thousand books or more. They’re stacked against the walls, next to the TV, and behind the couch. Hardcover spines stand in double rows in two bookcases in the living room. I crouch beside the tower closest to me, scanning the titles. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. The Secret Life of Bees. Advanced Quantum Physics. Domestic Violence: How to Survive. Interesting topics, especially the last one. I stand up straight. Where does she find so much time to read? Has she truly read all
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