Then came AngryPages.
Not a dusty book
on a quiet shelf.
Not a school essay
graded by someone else.
A magic book.
A living book.
A book with a screen
and a global look.
Open it in California.
Open it in Colombo.
Open it on a bus,
in bed, or tomorrow.
One card can hold
a joke, a fight,
a dream, a memory,
a strange midnight.
One card can hold
what a comment cannot:
a real beginning,
a scene, a plot.
Lehan touched the cover.
The pages woke.
The magic book opened.
The silence broke.
