roman a clef

orlando has come to me for an interrogation. i turned away responding 'why would you think that?' he asked me again. this has gone on for way too long, he says. guilt has not passed, neither has contempt. she asked me once again, "who are you?" i've lied before, i'll lie again, i've had practice, i've carried it all my life. it began when i was 12. orlando says, 'you've sabotaged yourself before, i know that you will do it again' absolutely not, there has been nothing to destroy. it has only been me the whole time. stupid and naive. fate has a different plan for me, not the one i wanted but the one i have to accept. you go on ahead, i'll try to catch up, but i've been stranded on this road for a while. just try to remember me when you get there. orlando says 'that is no way to think' it is the only way that i know how. nothing has proven me wrong.

and then i say: 'Books have always been things that have baffled me. i've always seen others reading, but i've always been passed over. i've been curious about how words are read, how those words make paragraphs, where the titles come from and the hands that hold them. i like hearing stories filled with plot twists, but have never thought of reading a book, novels or poems. some people ask me which on i like reading better, but i don't know the answer because i don't read. in the stories, i get very attached to the characters, i like listening to poems now, but epic stories are very emotional and seem to be the ones that have intrigued me the most. i should just get used to listening to stories because learning to read is impossible.' orlando doesn't understand. he sees the world through the eyes that have held and read a book so he can't see the world through my illiterate eyes.