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.”