Disclaimer: I don't own "Howl", it belongs to Allen Ginsberg. I also don't own "Oliver Twist", it belongs to Charles Dickens. The 'Dodger' reference is ASP's of course!
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Dreaming of Memories
The stars sparkle shyly, veiled in cloud. Light glimmers softly all around us. The butter-soft pages of the text between us are like a symbol of a shared ideal. I've read all the Classics, I've soldiered on through books whose authors' names are unpronounceable and, although this particular volume stood out for me, it was never as special as it has become in this one moment.
As I watch in awe, "Howl" transforms into "Oliver Twist", distorting from one literary genius to another. I would never have made this connection before now but here stands my reason. I casually hand the book back to her and the name 'Dodger' escapes from her mouth. This is my new identity. Somehow I feel it was my identity all along and it took this angelic girl to realise it for me.
