As she flipped farther through it, every page contained only a few brief lines. Hesta's gaze swept rapidly over them until a bookmark slipped out from between the pages.
She pressed her fingers over the bookmark and noticed a faint pencil-drawn five-pointed star beside the title on this page. Its color and texture looked exactly like the note on the reverse side of the title page.
"Meaning"
Who am I?
Who is the enemy?
There are more and more things that cannot be discussed.
Everything is being abused.
I have no God, and I do not pray.
I am a tiny mortal.
But when I know someone loves me,
I am Antaeus standing upon the earth.
No one can defeat me.
Happiness falls over my head like gauze.
The more things I hold in my hands,
The heavier my fear of losing them becomes.
When trembling despair grows tiresome,
Only then do I realize
That all questions pointing toward meaning
Point toward nothingness.
"Jane, so you came in here. I looked for you outside for ages but couldn't find you." Boheng walked up behind Hesta. "What are you reading?"
Hesta closed the cover and read the words on it. "...Selected Poems of Elver. It seems to be your book?"
Boheng's gaze shifted slightly, and an unconscious smile appeared on his face. He took the book and lowered his voice. "It is... For a while, I was really obsessed with her poetry. I donated them all to the library several years ago."
He quickly flipped the book to the title page and pointed out the line on its reverse side to Hesta.
"Look, my signature is here," he said softly. "Back then, whenever I bought a book, I'd write the date and place of purchase here... Where did you get