The hard bound cover page allured me with its simplicity. There was something so infatuating about the myriadness within the subtlety of it, that i couldn’t look elsewhere. I was attracted to the book by its cover. It didn’t matter what I had heard about it from the few others who had owned it. I opened the pages and read through it word for word. I took all the time I could to grasp every word, to make sense of every phrase, to comprehend every page- first at face value, and then between the bold letters. I was enchanted by the words and mesmerized by the language. It occurred to me that this was one book I was glad was written; the one book that I was proud I had picked, from a library to choose from. It didn’t matter that its last pages were missing.