Stories tagged “books”
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Deadtrees
“Books are for old people.” I said, mustering up my best mean face. “Now give me back my phone.” That old man confiscated my communicator and was trying to get me to agree to read something out of a dusty old deadtree. He may be...
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The Magic Reading Jar
Mr. Mercer was a strange old man, and he didn’t stock many new books in his store. In fact, most of the ones he sold were out of print. When I asked him about it, he said that books contain timeless wisdom, and so they have no expiration date. Ne...
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JoAnn's Happily Grounded
JoAnn ate her dinner voraciously. Her mother remarked that she was glad to see her appetite back. Her father reminded her that she was not to leave the house this evening, nor call anyone on the phone. She retired to her room. Under her bed she’d...
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Affirmation of A Mother's Worst Fears
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” JoAnn tried to look innocent. “You’re habits are changing. You haven’t eaten breakfast the past few days, then you eat constantly when you get home after school. You seem to be gaining weight. ...
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Everyplace
In my travels I came to the city of Güzel Kitaplar. Every home a library, every library a home. “What manner of place is this?” I asked. “This place is everyplace,” the people said. And it was. In their books were minarets and ...
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Laughing Wounds The Ego
Dr. Dementia scowled, delivering another crippling blow to his array of action figures. Or so he thought. The action figure must have been made of some rigid polymer, because it wasn’t crumbling in his fingers and he’d had enough. With a mighty dra...
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Brains (starving challenge)
Samu’s eyes burned and his throat was dry. His fingers twitched, yearning to have the comforting feel of soft paper between them. And then he saw it. LONGWOOD PUBLIC LIBRARY It was heaven, a mirage, a fantasy come true right before him! He ran in...
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Magic Carpet, Take Me There
Pages taste good. Their smell is an intoxicating aroma, the feel of them in your hands like no other on earth. The sound of one turning… The power they have, none can fathom. Like wings, they can take you where you have never been, where you have...
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Moving
SLAM. Trip stood up over the box, fists pressing into his lower back. He let out a mighty sigh through clenched teeth. “Th’hell do you have in here? Bricks?” “Books, dude. My books.” “You’re not in school anymo...
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The Good For Nothing Detective: Jones Missing Pants
“May I offer you some tea?” Detective Jones stood from behind the bench, making his way to the window. Where sat two sets of books, and a kettle on a hot stove. “Mr. Jones why are you not wearing any pants and further more where is your pants?
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the most dangerous weapon of all
He stumbled back,hands shaking violently,shielding his eyes from the most dangerous weapon.For years he had been master of the world’s armies,owner of the most powerful attack mechanisms known to man;all had bowed low before him – all but t...
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the most dangerous weapon of all (2)
The book was not special, as books go. It was not a book of sacred religion, or of discovered science. It did not explain things that were or things that had been or things that could be. It was merely fiction. Lies. Made up things that would never and...
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Book Heart
Ulkra clutched the book close to her chest. She had to. It held her heart. She ran her thumb affectionately down it’s old spine and tutted as her nail caught on a thread. She tried to pull away from it but it held on to her. She tugged. A final a...
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365 Days of Books
It started off as a New Year resolution. The idea, not mine of course, though I would love to have taken credit for it. “Don’t wear white socks all year,”I suggested. “It’s been done,” Robin replied. “I give u...
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Love More Than Hate
I remember writing, or trying to write, on this day three hundred and sixty-five days ago. I was crying. Maybe it was the exhaustion from staying up all night with my friends taking in the new year. Maybe it was the utter fear of what was to come. But ...
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Day 3: An Abundance of Katherines By John Green
January 3rd I was awoken by yelling and someone pounding on my door…I really did need to invest in earplugs. I hid under my pillow hoping whoever it was would go away. No such luck. “This had better be good,” I mumbled to myself. R...
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16: Great Works of Literature
Rianne snatched another book from the shelves and added it to the heavy pile in her arms. A few more and the stack would reach her chin. Behind her, Charlie was struggling with her equally heavy load. “Why did I agree to help you with this?”...
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Illegal Publishing
The nondescript box arrived on my doorstep in exactly two weeks. Just as promised. I tore into it and pulled the book out, staring in awe at my work. It didn’t look like a traditional book. It had no cover and the type seemed a bit odd. But that&...
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Why I love reading
Growing up I loved books. I loved them so much that my family dentist, whom I only saw once a year when I was a kid, would always ask me “What books are you reading?” I remember days when my mom would call out from the kitchen while my brot...
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Surprise
Helen stopped her car at the bottom of her driveway by her mailbox. Included with the bills and fliers was a small cardboard box from a company she had never heard of before. Shrugging, she got back in the car and set the mail with her groceries. She p...
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The Book Long Forgotten
With a tiny splash the droplet hit the page, causing the ancient ink to run in tiny rivers. He blinked and looked up as he ran a hand over his forehead; he had been sweating. How long had he been reading? He looked down at the dusty tome and realized h...
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Passage of Revenge
The house had been in disarray for days now. Books littered the floor and his thumb was callused from the turning of the pages. He would find it. He had to. The idea had popped into his head when the boss, yet again, tormented him and called him no-goo...
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Tu Travailles Trop
More than anything, I just wanted him to say “OK, ma cherie, we will make it work.” Instead, he told me, “Tu travailles trop et ne bois pas assez.” You work too much, and drink too little. So, I left. I packed up my golightlys...
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Procrastination...?
Looking up at the clock, I sigh, and put the book down. I pick up my pencil, once again mentally preparing myself for another foray into the literary minefield that I call an essay. It appears as if red ink has been thrown carelessly over my carefully ...
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Sesquepedalian Loquaciousness
Eleanor thought her day would be normal, as it usually is, until one of her books started talking. The book in question started talking when she pulled the book unceremoniously from its perch with a swift yank. “Easy there, miss! Could you please...