What did you….do with that book?
There was silence as the words tumbled out of Jacks mouth “mum what did you do with that book” he shouted again she was the other side of the house and to be truthful he was pretty sure she couldn’t hear him. Cursing his teenage boy ability to put things down and then ignore them until he remembered he needed them by which time his mum had move it out of the way somewhere. Walking down the hall way he met her on her return to the kitchen “mum what did you do with the book I left on the side?” She rolled her eyes “what do you think I did with it? Might I remind you that if you looked after your stuff better it wouldn’t be lost all the time. Jack rolled his eyes (he knew his mother was right but would never admit it) “I guess, but still where did you put it?” his mum was starting to lose patience, the umpteenth time he had done this and refused to learn, what did she have to do to get it through to him. “I’m doing this so you learn to act more responsibly as a grown up – you do realise that don’t? Its on your bookshelf where it should be!” she inwardly sighed one day he would see her logic, it might not be soon though. Jack flounced off back to his bedroom, she comforted herself with the fact that at least he wasn’t a ‘Kevin’ style teenager he had a pretty good attitude it just he was terrible for losing stuff and not looking properly much like any other man or teenager for that matter.
Jack got to his bedroom door and noticed he did indeed have a bookshelf and there the book was on it. It wasn’t that he had forgotten that he had a bookshelf he just never made the connection, it sounded stupid but his capability for independent thought was not developing as fast as the rest of his brain, he was going to have to work on that, if only to stop his mum from putting his things away and use his bookcase himself. Picking up the book it brought the same excited feeling as it did when he had first picked it up in the shop, he often bought books by feel and had found a great many which he had enjoyed or they had inspired him in someway, this mum wasn’t so much of a fan of him reading spiritual books because of her inherently Christian outlook on the world, she still went to church every Sunday and prayed before bed, she had not forced Jack to follow in her footsteps he had been given the choice at the age of 13, by now he had been to plenty of religious education lessons and realised that Christianity was not for him, he would need to find his own path in life. The book he had picked up this time was a book on hermetics, fortunately his mum had no concept of what the word even meant, she would be horrified to discover what it actually meant and there would be the discussion where she tried to censor his reading material and then there would be stalemate when he refused, it had happened before and no doubt it wouldn’t be the last time either. The book ruffled its pages, Jack rubbed his eyes, did it just move by itself?
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