I don’t know where the commas go anymore

How I learned to read and write again in the digital era

In the late 90s and early noughts, you could catch me with a book 7 out of 10 times. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I used to dodge gym class and hang out with Mrs. Radha, our school librarian. In the lead-up to the annual school cultural event, when large parts of the day were often excused so that we could practice for the play or some other activity, I would be reading Asimov. The library was housed in the building that accommodated the lower and middle…