Page 187 - The Midnight Library
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                who    had   been   there   a   while   apparently.   When    they   played   catch,   Nora

                discovered  his  reflexes  were  good,  his  mouth  catching  the  ball  almost  ever y
                time. She liked this life – or more  precisely, she  liked the  version of herself in
                this life. She could tell the kind of person she  was from the  way people  spoke
                to her. It felt nice – comforting, solidifying – to be a good person.

                   Her mind felt different here. She thought a lot in this life, but her thoughts
                were gentle.
                   ‘Compassion        is   the   basis   of   morality,’    the   philosopher       Arthur
                Schopenhauer  had  written,  in  one  of  his  soer  moments.  Maybe  it  was  the

                basis of life too.
                   ere  was  one  man  who  worked  there  called  Dylan,  who  had  a  natural
                way  with  all  the  dogs.  He  was  about  her  age,  maybe  younger.  He  had  a  kind,
                gentle,  sad  look  about  him.  His  long  surf-dude  hair  golden  as  a  ret riever.  He

                came and sat next to Nora on a bench at lunch, overlooking the field.
                   ‘What    are   you   having    today?’   he   asked,   sweet ly,   nodding   to   Nora’s
                lunchbox.
                   She  honestly  didn’t  know  –  she  had  found  it  already  prep ared  when  she’d

                opened  her  magnet-  and  calendar-cluttered  fridge  that  morning.  She  peeled
                off  the  lid  to  find  a  cheese  and  Marmite  sandwich  and  a  packet  of  salt  and
                vinegar crisps. e sky darkened and the wind picked up.
                   ‘Oh crap,’ Nora said. ‘It’s going to rain.’

                   ‘Maybe, but the dogs are all still in their cages.’
                   ‘Sorr y?’
                   ‘Dogs  can  smell  when  rain  is  coming,  so  they  oen  head  indoors  if  they
                think  it’s  going  to  happen.  Isn’t  that  cool?  at  they  can  predict  the  future

                with their nose?’
                   ‘Yes,’ said Nora. ‘Way cool.’
                   Nora  bit  into  her  cheese  sandwich.  And  then  Dylan  put  his  arm  around
                her.

                   Nora jumped up.
                   ‘—the hell?’ she said.
                   Dylan    looked    deeply   apologetic.   And    a   little   horrified   at   himself.   ‘I’m
                sorr y. Did I hurt your shoulder?’

                   ‘No . . . I just . . . I . . . No. No. It’s fine.’
                   She  discovered  that  Dylan  was  her  boyfriend  and  that  he  had  gone  to  the
                same  secondar y  school  as  her.  Hazeldene  Comp.  And  that  he  was  two  years
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