Reading Is Hard Novels & Stories

My eyes wander over his papers and books. Heaving a deep sigh, Rob glances down at his mess strewn about the table. “I have a paper due on Monday. I’m not a good reader, so I’m having a hard time understanding the material to be able to write.” “Have you always had problems reading? Or is it just this material?” I ask, my earlier suspicion growing stronger. Rob shakes his head. “It’s anything I have to read. This is maybe worse because the font is so small. I have a digital copy of the book, so I can enlarge the font, but I’m still having trouble.”

I can't believe what he's telling me right now. We all experience hardship, but you don't lift when you give up easily. I know I feel sorry for Tita; don't you see her hardships just so you can get an education? Our mothers worked hard just so we could get an education, and now you're like that with your mother?! It's really hard, Mindy; no life is easy, it all really starts with hardship!

It was a stark contrast to the vibrant sunlight that usually accompanied her studies, a testament to the urgency that had propelled her out of her slumber. The words on the pages held both familiarity and frustration. Rithanya had always been an ardent reader, devouring words with an insatiable hunger. Yet, this pursuit felt different—less like a joyful exploration and more like a grueling endeavor. The monotony of the task at hand weighed heavily on her, her eyes struggling to decipher the small text illuminated by the moon.

“Sitting and reading all day drains you in a different way. It builds up quietly. By the end, your head just feels… heavy.” She gave a small shrug, like she had already gone through it too many times to be surprised by it anymore. She wasn’t wrong. I let out a low groan. “I thought I was supposed to be good at this kind of thing…” We had spent the whole day going through Medina’s books. On the surface, they looked normal—words I could read just fine. But once you tried to make sense of them together, it was like chasing smoke. Nothing stayed still long enough to understand.

If this is the case, true love will not be easy to get without the pain that bridges everything. "Why did I come to this library, I've already taken all these books, but I'm too lazy to read them," I grumbled. I lay my body on the library table. My eyes swept around. Many students were reading or just copying their assignments, "do they not have the burden of life," I said again.

I cry and hold on to the counter afraid that I’d break down if I let go. “It’s okay, don’t worry too much about it” he tries to calm me, but it’s doesn’t work. “You don’t get it” I wrench myself from his arms. “It’s not just that. I can’t read the measurement either. Neither can I remember the how you like your coffee! Damn it! Even some words are a bit difficult for me read” I can stop myself from crying. I feel so useless. The things that used to be easy for me, now aren’t. I find it harder to read numbers. Every time I tried looking at the measurement for the past thirty minutes, my mind becomes jumbled.

"You get a face like Mommy gets when work is hard." I studied him for a long moment, this small person who had somehow already learned to read the weather in the adults around him, a skill no six-year-old should have needed to develop this quickly. "Some grown-up problems are making me frustrated," I admitted. "But I promise you, none of it is your fault. None of it will ever touch you if I can help it." Noah considered this with his usual careful seriousness, then held up his book. "Will you read to me? Mommy says reading helps when things are hard."

But I liked that; unpredictable. "You can?" "Well,” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “--it isn't always accurate, but I read some books about it in the temple." "You read?" I asked. He lifted an eyebrow and I regretted what I said almost immediately. It came out like I was insulting him. And I swear I didn’t mean it that way. I was just… surprised. After capitalism has collapsed, not a lot of people read anymore. Unless you are a maester or nurse, reading is not a necessary life skill, farming and hunting are. Reading is more like an escape.

I hadn't expected it to be so descriptive and raw but I didn't want to show my discomfort while reading it to him. I realized something last night; reading actually made me happy. It was like a mood builder for me. I figured that every morning I wake after reading, i would feel strong enough to face the day and it's challenges. It was like I knew no matter how shitty my life was there was a world void of all my troubles that I could sooner or later bury my mind in and even after hours of reading, those words played over and over again in my mind, fighting with the reality that was constantly hunting me.

"It's just boring!" Tomson Ruan sighed helplessly feeling that he really couldn't speak to this child. Dislike is being able to read more than a dozen books in two days? If no one comes to call, you can read a book until you forget heaven and earth. This definition of dislike scared him. It's obvious that you like reading books but you don't like going to school, it's hard to understand. "Drawing what?" "It's not a random drawing, it's a new product."