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| Love story |
What can you about 25 years old girl who died?
You can say that she was beautiful and intelligent. She loved Mozart and Bach and the Beatles. And me. Once, when she told me that, I asked her who came first. She answered, smiling, “Like in the ABC.” I smiled too. But now I wonder. Was she talking about my first name? If she was, I came last, behind Mozart. Or did she mean my last name? If she did, I came between Bach and the Beatles. But I still did not come first. That worries me terribly now. You see, I always had to be Number one. Family pride, you see.
In the autumn of my last year at Harvard University, I studied a lot in the Radcliffe library. The library was quiet, nobody knew me there, and they had the books that I needed for my studies. The day before an examination I went over to the library desk to ask for a book. Two girls were working there. One was tall and sporty. The order was quiet and wore glasses. I chose her and asked for my book.
She gave me an unfriendly look. ‘Don’t you have a library at Harvard?’ She asked. ‘Radcliffe let us use their library, ’ I answered.
‘Yes, Preppie, they do –but is it fair? Harvard has five million books. We have a few thousand.’
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