Amy and her best friend, Ryan, a woman her age who was majoring in English, sat across from each other digging into some old literature they needed to write a paper for in their British Literature. It was quite rare for any woman to find interest in literature anymore, mostly because a large majority of literature dating before the 2000s had been dominated by men. Amy and Ryan couldn’t help themselves though. Works by authors such as C.S Lewis, Tolkien, and some of the poets too were fascinating.
“Can you believe men made stuff like this?”
“Men were different at that time, Amy. You won’t find a guy these days who can be as articulate or even competent with their words.”
“I don’t know, we don’t seem to give them a chance.”
“Seriously?” Ryan looked at Amy with contempt. “There are numerous studies on men that you can read right over there,” she gestured to the nonfiction section, “and read up on. Men are nothing more than animals, maybe less than. At most, I’d take one on as a pet.”
“Sure, sure. But I don’t know, how shrinking can strip away your humanity? See, Lewis here seems to think people all matter and have some worth.”
“Lewis was an idealist. And he was in a different world too. Seriously, don’t get lost in the past honey. It will only hurt you.” Amy nodded, though she still let these thoughts stew in her head.
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