A Little Bit About Everything Book Novels & Stories

Well I am obsess, I was supposed to think but hey one book wouldn’t take all my time right? “Fine, one book and think about your situation” “Okay tala, thanks!” I found a good book to read, the cover was faded and the front page is teared, upon opening the book it was already at page three. It was weird but I read it anyway. It was full of interesting stories and now I realized it is not a story book or a novel, it is about different kinds of beings. It was amazing how many beings there are, now I wonder if Lucas have met all of them for me. I smile at that thought

DEDICATION: I dedicate this chapter to 'Mhiz Grace Pretty' for dropping two gems on my book this month. You are amazing 😘 Elliot's POV The book was magnificent. Just as I imagined. Once I reached home I had already prepared myself to open it but I had to savour the moment of having the first magic book in the world.

Elysia, The quiet of my room enveloped me as I sat on the edge of the bed, the book open in my hands. The scent of ink and old pages swirled in the air, a comforting presence that calmed my restless mind. Grandma Aurora’s words from the past lingered in my thoughts as I turned the pages slowly. Everyone is extraordinary in their own world. They create their own universe, define their own truths, and find their paths to fulfillment, happiness, and peace.

Opening my phone, I type out the perfect text. -Hey! How are you?- Faith. I’m a literary genius, clearly. I groan, disappointed with my conversation starting skills as I wait for a text message to come through. Three very long and disappointing minutes pass and I decide reading makes time move much faster than staring at the device I’m basically begging to ding. I pick up my romance novel and immediately I’m sucked in. A dashing prince is racing against time to grab the magic tears of the moon so he can turn his beloved into her human form so they can finally be together.

I just let him do it I don’t know how to explain it but I am comfortable with it Here we are inside the bookstore. I am just following North wherever he goes, then he suddenly stopped on a book section; it is the psychological book section He didn’t let go my hand while looking at the book. He started looking each of them; he might be looking for something. “The books, do they have differences?” I asked “Yes, a lot. There are books that are detailed and has a certain topic of research and that is the book that I am searching” I nodded repeatedly, because he didn’t let go my hand I started looking at the books. The problem is I started to feel headache when I looked at it

There was something about it that made me want to record every detail. "What's your book about?" he asked suddenly, without taking his eyes off the screen. I looked down at the book in my hands. "It's about a woman's journey to find herself." He stopped typing and turned his head. "Sounds interesting." I smiled faintly. “Interesting. Not because the story is extraordinary, but because the small details feel close. Everyday things that turn out to have meaning.” He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “I see what you mean.”

Junior called after him, "is all I was going to say." He read four chapters of the book that night at his small table under his single bulb. It was even better than he had expected, dense with real world strategy models and case studies of businesses that had started from nothing and become something extraordinary. He read with his notebook open beside him, writing as he went, pulling out the ideas that connected with things he had already been thinking about and building on them in ways that the book itself hadn't considered. He was on the fifth chapter when he heard something outside his window.

Found the book I had come for — one for her, one for me, one because the cover was interesting and that had always been reason enough. "Everything that you are," I said to her quietly, "started here. With two people looking at each other across a street." I looked at her face. "Which sounds too simple for what it produced. But that is what it was." She grabbed the edge of my coat. "I know," I said. "Simple is underrated." At the counter I paid and the bookseller — an older woman who had been in this shop for years, who had the particular quality of someone who understood what bookshops were for — looked at her and said: beautiful.

She had a way of reminding him that, at the end of the day, that's what life was all about. It was always about the little things - fleeting feelings and small moments that, in the grand scheme of it all, wouldn't seem so significant, but at the time they felt like everything. The first time you hear a song and you know it's going to be your favorite. When you finish a really good book and, despite the sadness of it all coming to an end, you can't help but look back at the journey with a smile and, if it's really good, you'll be excited to relive it all again. That moment early in the morning when you first come to and the world, for once, feels still and you can finally just breathe.

_Barely_ _Just finished a book_ The three dots appear instantly. He was waiting. _Which one_ Elma looks at the paperback on her bed. The spine is cracked wrong from how fast she read it. _The God of Small Things_. She bought it last week because the cover was blue and she was tired of grey. _The one I bought last week_ _Took me one day_ Another pause. Longer this time. Then: _That is a record for you_ _You used to read one chapter a month_