Short Story

Reducing them to a pile of ashes. Jennifer can be heard yelling at her boyfriend, Skip, because he wants her to give up the book; but she won’t because the book represents a part of her she didn’t know existed. She isn’t willing to give up this newfound strength of hers she hadn’t realized she had. As a viewer, I could sense her determination. This book was not going into that fire. As she is struggling to keep the book, she claims that it is the first book she has ever read. This is a very critical part of the scene because she is realizing she can be more than the shallow, slutty girl she is back in the 90’s. She is realizing that she has value, and self-worth. Finally, she snatches the book from Skip’s hands, and runs away with it, clenching the book that represents her ability to change, and grow as a

Page one. I read the words all the words and to my surprise it wasn’t too bad. So, I flipped right ahead to page two and I was so engaged and loving it even more. I couldn’t put this book down for even a second, so when it was time for dinner, I sat at the table and snuck not my phone, but my book. It was extremely fascinating that's why. I couldn’t let go until Bud stuck the pencil right up his nose, I threw the book right under because I couldn’t handle the imagination while eating. I felt queasy and uncomfortable, so I asked to be excused and sprinted up the stairs tumbled, and then got right up and sprinted down the hall and slid right into the carpet. This marked the day i pulled my first all nighter. I finished the book. I finished the whole entire

Then I realized something. I flipped to the end of the book and worked backwards through the blank pages. Maybe she might have left some clue as to-

An idea was tracing through the back of her mind, and so she thought to try and best and quickly she could manifest how she felt. Several minutes minutes of failure of preforming such mental acrobatics propelled Katie towards the decisive choice of going to her closet. As she opened the mirror door, Katie gazed into her own ocean green eyes, and revealing a bounty of tired clothing nobody really wore. Her slender arm reached a slender hand to grasp an engraved brown leather booklet.

He’d read it before, but it was still a good, solid read, easy to while the time away with. By now it was just gone half-six in the evening. His plan was to get a quiet table, eat dinner slowly, have a couple of drinks in the bar, read his book the entire time, and hopefully he’d be in a fit state to sleep fitfully for a change. He made sure he had his room key in his pants pocket, checked he had his Blackberry in his other pants pocket, pulled himself back into his suit jacket, then walked out of his room, pausing only to make sure his door had closed

There was one more room to examine—the attic. Remembering that boards covered the windows, she needed something to pry them away to allow light into the area.

She flipped to page 324 and related how the murder and setting in the book she was reading “The Orient Express” was similar to the murder that had just occurred and her environment right now. Then she skimmed through several pages and started to read what happened next. The plot was so intriguing and she was so into the book. Throughout the next couple of pages she read, “The train moving at full speed could not be controlled. BOOM! The train was now in a pile of snow, and hundreds were stuck on board. The Murderer was now on loose.” This sentence made Marissa want to delve deeper into this mystery but as of now nobody was allowed in the room besides the

On the outside, there would be a small pathway up to Olivia’s backdoor. The pathway would be decorated with extravagance, for instance, roses. Roses symbolises a beautiful outer appearance, but in actual fact, has thorns, which threaten at the same while (hidden intentions). There should be a simple plant, with morning glory creeping up. Morning glory represents beauty that only lasts for an instance.

It's watchin' us" Ralphie whispered. "Listen, I'm not gonna-" "No, Danny. Really. Can't you feel it?" Danny stopped. And in the way of children, he did feel something and knew they were no longer alone. A great hush had fallen over the woods; but it was a malefic hush. Shadows, urged by the wind, twisted languorously around them.

The marvellous thing about stories and books is the ability to travel to different places in this universe, fictional or not, without leaving the comfort of your bedroom. The musk of the brand-new or worn-out book is something I have come to enjoy. But in the action of reading, I love turning the page. The rough, sometimes soft, edge of the brittle page holds the secrets of the character on its face and hides many more behind it. What will happen next? What will this character do? Turn the page. Suddenly the secrets, thoughts, actions, pour out of the page and engulf your mind with feelings that only the reader of those words can feel.

As Jeny kept reading, she came across an entry that was talking about a special object that Dakota had hidden. The more and more she read it, she realized that it wasn’t special to Dakota, but instead special to her. The entry had been wrote in a riddle fashion, talking about a turning point and special change. About halfway through the last sentence Jeny dropped the book and bolted. She understood what Dakota was writing about, and if Dakota was right, Jeny needed to see it for

you in to her text. There's certain areas in the book that seem to flash a light bulb above your head, and

"Thank you," Elina said, taking the book from him. She walked north, to the other side of the library. She walked to a mahogany table, away from other forms of life but her. She sat down on a chair, seeing the sunlight shone through the dusty window behind her. She placed the book on the table, examining the cover. As she read the description on the back, her thoughts finally hunted her down. Watching two children playing from the window, to her, they seemed to have a playful time. "It'll be nice to actually have an adventure for once, but that's what books are for." As she opened the book, it started to glow. Suddenly, everything went dark. Lights mysteriously turned off, window blinds are shut tight, allowing little light to pass. The thud of the book is heard, no longer feeling the table."Mr. Maplewood, I can't see anything!" But when she shouted, the only sound she hears is her voice and her heart beating. She walked around a bit to search for shelves, but nothing seemed to be there, just emptiness. Neither she could feel the chair she just sat for a few seconds ago or her yellow backpack she just placed it on. The book is the only thing

Alone, full of words and meaning ,a story with adventure and hope, the book grows old, while still keeping its’ crisp youthfulness. For all the book’s miraculous treasure held in the inside, it’s own emptiness and worry consumes it from back to cover. The worry and desire to be read is slowly consuming it, the book is anxious.

Lucas, on the other hand was in awe. He never thought the bookstore would hold such numbers of bookshelves full of books. Lucas also loved to read books and preferred paper rather than digital eBooks. He was actually new to this town and he didn’t think he’d find a bookstore like this. Even though it was raining hard outside and he could’ve ran to his apartment, the moment his eyes saw the words “Mr. Steorra’s Bookstore”, he knew he had to go in and he felt like as if something was calling for him from the bookstore. Lucas started to scan his eyes through the shelves until he laid his eyes upon an old book. The book seemed to be really old since the title was mostly fading on the spine.