While I was browsing through the library the other day, a certain book caught my eye. It had the African plains as a background, with a red-haired girl staring out into the wilderness, a book and pen in hand. I was interested in it, and not having much time, I checked it out along with two other books. I held onto the book for a while, but I never read it; besides, I had a few weeks before it was due. Finally, when I was finished with my Mary Poppins books and the other two I had retrieved from the library, "Listening for Lions" caught my eye again; its cursive letters were intriguing.
I promised myself I would read it sometime the next day. However, that same night I found I couldn't sleep, so I grabbed the yellow book in hand and snapped open the cover. I scanned the texture of the page leaves and took a deep breath before indulging myself into the delicious words. I read on and on until, at last, once I hit page one hundred seventy six, I just could no longer keep my eyes open. My head hit the pillow and I fell asleep.
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