i am heathcliff. fear me.

an open letter to the person who keeps recalling every book about emily bronte held by fondren library:

dear whoever-you-are:

i am attempting to prepare my presentation for the edinburgh conference next month, and you have made my recent visits to the library the equivalent of a visit to a public laundromat. every time i think i’m going to emerge with everything i need, i realize that i’ve lost a sock — or a reference book — to the great abyss.

please stop checking out every book i need, and please stop recalling the few books i’ve managed to hoarde in my apartment. i refuse to believe that you truly need these books, as it is june and you are probably not in class. i refuse to believe that you are truly interested in reading about the critical heritage of wuthering heights, ya know, just for fun. so unless you are a professor in the english department and therefore control some aspect of my career prospects, i hate you with the fire of a thousand suns.

sincerely,

carrots.

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One thought on “i am heathcliff. fear me.

  1. give them a beat down

    Excellent letter. I can teach you some of my man-killing self defense moves, and you can hide in the shadows and hammer punch whoever tries to check out said books.

    Or throw pie. That is my favorite option. A flying pie always gets attention

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