The Rules

SHE sits; she lies; she thinks. She wonders how she is going to live this life without the rules sometimes, the rules like the ones laid down by all those ladies today who had walked into her classroom and demanded her attention without really earning it.
It feels as though she can do anything she wants.

Imagine a book, compiled by someone who has lived an infinity and been through heaven and hell and everything in between. And that book would be as long and thick as forever-fog that you can't see through. And it would state on every page a rule, then list the millions of links that follow close afterward, stating various situations the reader may or may not be in. And the man would die before he managed to contain everything he knew and everything there was to know into this one huge volume. Because such a book cannot exist, and no words would fit it if it did.