The tips of Clarisse's ears are burning. She knows that, if she were to look in a mirror, they'd be red. This is not Ness's fault, it's simply one of those conversations that never gets less embarrassing. It would almost be easier if it was just that she'd never been taught how to read, because then she could learn. Instead it's like trying to explain to someone why she sat through a bunch of art classes but still can't draw anything better than stick figures.
"I have this... thing. My brain is wired to read and write in a different language, so in English—Common—the letters swim around, get mixed up." She has no idea if Ness knows what dyslexia is, or if she's from one of those worlds where Clarisse would just be considered stupid (hell, even in her own world, a lot of people thought she was stupid), so she's keeping it simple.
"I can read," she says. "I just don't do it unless I have to." She reads stuff for work! Slowly. And she writes reports and then makes Abby fix them for her.
no subject
The tips of Clarisse's ears are burning. She knows that, if she were to look in a mirror, they'd be red. This is not Ness's fault, it's simply one of those conversations that never gets less embarrassing. It would almost be easier if it was just that she'd never been taught how to read, because then she could learn. Instead it's like trying to explain to someone why she sat through a bunch of art classes but still can't draw anything better than stick figures.
"I have this... thing. My brain is wired to read and write in a different language, so in English—Common—the letters swim around, get mixed up." She has no idea if Ness knows what dyslexia is, or if she's from one of those worlds where Clarisse would just be considered stupid (hell, even in her own world, a lot of people thought she was stupid), so she's keeping it simple.
"I can read," she says. "I just don't do it unless I have to." She reads stuff for work! Slowly. And she writes reports and then makes Abby fix them for her.