“OK, I will! I’ll leave you alone. I’ll mind
my own business. Here is your old, worn out
book. Just let me see the title of it.”
It was called Escape to the Mountains. I
picked up the copper bowl and went home. I
had begged Mash Assadollah, who was actu-
ally a kind and gracious man, not to say a
word about this to my grandmother. When
he realized that I wasn’t trying to annoy him
on purpose, he forgave me.
On my way home, I had many different
thoughts about what had happened to the
boy in the story. I couldn’t forget the book! I
was like a thirsty person who had tasted only
a splash of cool, clear water on his lips—and
wanted more!I LOVE A
GOOD BOOK! OR A GOOD MAGAZINE!HA-HA-HA.