What foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and the short-winded elations of men.

There was hope!

Ellen hated English, and The Great Gatsby was just not sparking her interest. She had stared blankly at the pages, whilst Mrs Dookes had droned on about some doctor’s specs being a metaphor for God, and Charlie sitting beside her had bubbled excitedly whist sharing her views on Nick’s belief that he is the most honest person he had ever met. Meanwhile, Ellen had been smacking her head in frustration because it took her four turns before she could say ‘inexhausted’ correctly.

But this line stood out from the page. Right at the end, after three months of reading and analysing, she had found something that reinforced her love of reading.

What foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and the short-winded elations of men.

Could this one sentence change her whole life?