Reading Woolf
Paul Kavanagh

I am going to read Woolf. I am going to read Virginia Woolf. I am going to sit down cross my legs and read Virginia Woolf. There is only one Virginia Woolf Virginia Woolf. She died a long time ago did Virginia Woolf. The book in my hand is To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Before I can sit down, I must have a drink to accompany me when I read To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Last night I read To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Last night I read a hundred pages of To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. It was raining outside and a wind ululated but I was warm and secure while I read To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Over my head was an electric light and it illuminated the pages of To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Before starting Time Passes my wife asked me what I was reading and I said To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. My wife looked perplexed for a few weeks ago I had told her bluntly that I would never read To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. She laughed, she laughed slightly mocking me, at university my wife had read To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. My wife's favorite book is To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Unfolding and folding, thinking of Joyce, thinking of Proust, an ignition of thoughts, dreamily wafting like upon an opium dream of Augustus Carmichael, a melancholy thought permeates, we all die alone, such a tenebrous thought, my thoughts are now swayed by To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. I was at the library searching for a macho book by a macho man but I couldn't find a macho book by a macho man so I picked up To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.

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