It was just lying there, on the ground. It looked centuries old and tatered at the corners. Emily, my best friend (who I’d been walking with when I found it), walked over and picked it up. She opened it to a random page. “Wierd.” She muttered. “What is it?” I asked. “It’s definitely not written in english.” She said. “Let me see.” I take the book from her hands. I begin to read it allowed but stop. “It makes sense.” I say slowly. “What do you mean “it makes sense”? It’s in a different language and not even one that I recognise.” Emily asked confused. “I mean I… I understand it.”