“
I’ve always loved reading and stuff. Books, poems. So maybe a writer. I always thought that would be the thing. To write books. Make up stories.”
I try to couch it with an ambivalent shrug, like it’s a fleeting thought, like it’s not the single thing I’ve had my heart set on since I could first read.
To my surprise, Jasper nods his approval.
”Yeah. I reckon that’s you for sure, Charlie.”
“You think?”
“No doubt. Reckon you’d be great. Move to some big city with a typewriter. Meetin people, tellin their stories. Maybe you could write my story one day. Then we’ll make a film out of it, for certains. Imagine that.
”
”