There I was in reading class. But this class was different. We worked on our own. We had lessons and question and answer stuff, comprehension exercises etc. I had always done well on that if I could manage to read anything. It all seemed futile, the same old stuff that never helped.
But they had something I had never encountered. It was a little stylus, a horizontal clock arm that would go down the page line by line. My task was to keep up with it. That was impossible but day after day I would try. It was a real challenge.
But a miracle began to happen. As I got faster I was not forgetting the letters in the words, I was seeing words instead of letters. As more time went by I was comprehending whole sentences before I forgot the words, then as more time went by I was seeing phrases not sentences. I was actually reading things that were not interesting enough to otherwise had remembered, I was able to read boring useless information and know what I had read. I was really reading like everyone else.
This was a turning point, I could do it, or at least for short periods of time, for short essays. But alas, it too would begin to fade from memory. But it was enough to get by, sort of. I had other lessons to learn on my own, and only the desperate desire to find out would lead me to a solution.
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