On the fourth to top step of this stupendous spiral staircase lay a lounging, sprawled Morgan P. Nickels and five books, all of which were on page 123. He finished that page in the first one, a muggle sci-fi novel about a dystopian future where dinosaurs roamed the earth again, and people had started growing feathers from places, and moved on to the second page, page 123. Nonfiction, wizarding. Louise Carter's book about minorities. Which he had read exactly 7 times now. Once he was done with that page, he'd move to page 123 in the third book...and so on. So forth.
Reading like this kept him on his toes. Not literally, since he was on his behind right now, propped up by his elbow. "Ah, the lovely, twisted follicles of faith in the future," he muttered, now on the fifth book's 123rd page. He had paperwork to fill out. It was tucked behind his ear, rolled up like a map. He had a special quill to procure to sign things, though. |