Word: vag
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...inside. Pretty good course, that had been. Neat guys--real jokers. That was the kind of thing you probably remembered about College. He weighed the book in his hand; it was small and handy, printed on exceptionally light paper. It wouldn't really take up too much space. Vag held the book a minute more, and then let it slip back into the carton...
...Junk," muttered Vag; he reached in the pile. Five Kinds of Writing. That certainly wasn't worth keeping. Vag opened the book at random. "Why I am a Marxist" it said. He shuddered and threw it beside the math tables. Family and Community in Ireland. The book joined the others behind the laundry case. Essays on Sociological Theory. The dust was coming up from the laundry box now as the books hit. Vag worked his way to the bottom of the box, watched a copy of Plato's "Republic" thud into the pile, and then stood up. That had been...
...walked over to the laundry case and picked up the Plate. "In case of loss return to. . ." it said on the flyleaf. A book was important in those days. And the math tables, you never knew when you were going to need a math table. Vag stood over the box, and then quickly slipped in the two books. These were valuable books, a real library. Vag started throwing the books back at their box, working faster and faster...
...only one left now was Five Kinds of Writing, lying alone in the dust. Vag lifted it and opened it carefully to "Why I am a Marxist" again. He started reading, and paused for a minute to look over his shoulder. Then he quickly crouched over the box, dug into pile with his free hand, and slipped the book back at their box, working faster and faster...
...only one left now was Five Kinds of Writing, lying alone in the dust. Vag lifted it and opened it carefully to "Why I am a Marxist" again. He started reading, and paused for a minute to look over his shoulder. Then he quickly crouched over the box, dug into the pile with his free hand, and slipped the book into the heap...