Back Of Beyond Bookstore Novels & Stories

Forbidden ways. I shook my head, telling myself I was imagining it. Surely, I couldn’t feel… this. The bookstore bell jingled as I pushed the door open. The familiar scent of aged paper and coffee filled my nose, grounding me for a moment. I breathed out slowly and moved toward the back, where the quieter shelves waited. I liked the back of the store; it was a little out of sight, perfect for moments of privacy I rarely got elsewhere. And then I saw him.

There is no mate bond, but having him close makes me feel more secure. “I can’t wait for you to see this.” He rubs his thumb on the top of my hand as he leads me to a store. It’s rare Bronx gets so excited about surprising me. We approach a bookstore with a dusty, old window display. In gold paint, there is a picture of a pan flute and a goat. The images are peeling and sundried as if they’ve been there forever. Over the pictures are the words ‘The Barded Goat Used & Collectible Books’.

That very night, I called a delivery guy to take out the trash and tipped him 200. The delivery guy was stunned as he looked at the branded clothes in the bags and asked, "Are you sure you don't want any of this?" "I don't. You can either throw it away or donate it." Hearing my words, he quickly hauled away the bags, seemingly afraid that I might change my mind. Then, I packed my own things too, erasing every trace of my existence. Looking around one last time, I smiled faintly. It was finally coming to an end.

I was all alone in the dark. I pressed my back against the cold wall and slid down until I hit the floor. The stone was wet. The darkness was the kind that sat on your chest and pushed. Then my hand touched something on the wall beside me. I felt it with my fingers first. Scratches. Deep ones. Letters carved into the stone by something sharp, maybe a nail, maybe a tooth. I traced them slowly. T - O - B - Y. My chest caved in so hard that I thought the ribs would crack.”.

Impatient but intrigued, the absence of a book in her still smarting, and with no one else to see and nowhere else to be, she followed. They turned a corner, and then a second, passing one bookcase after another, her balding, stoop-backed sherpa guiding her through one canyon after another. Bookcases, in some, standing so high the shelves at the top faded into shadow, the stories they held abandoned to the dark, no matter how greedy and desperate their pages. Then, turning a final corner, the dark thickets of a final valley navigated, they stopped. They were at the back of the store, the space much longer than she’d first thought. Before them, tucked between two immense bookcases, was an ent

The girl said. “Same here. I actually thought that this book wasn’t popular but you’re reading it as well. Oh, I’m Kayne by the way, Kayne David.” “I’m Natsumi Koga, it’s nice to meet you!” “Ah yes, you as well. I was actually about to ask if you always come here.” Kayne asked. “Uhuh, I always go to this café every time I go to town, this is actually kind of my spot, haha.”

Stopped. Walked in. A kid, maybe twenty, stood behind the counter, staring at his phone. "Do you have books for teenagers?" He looked up. "Like, Young Adult?" "I don't know. Sixteen-year-olds." "Yeah. YA section's in the back." I walked to the back. Found shelves labeled Young Adult Fiction. Pulled out a book at random. Read the back. Something about dragons. Shoved it back in. Pulled out another. Read the back.

I slipped out of the theater before the movie even ended. After making sure no one was following me, I wandered around until nightfall before finally taking the bus home. On the road leading back to Briarwood Manor, I suddenly noticed a long shadow stretched across the ground. Nathaniel was smoking under the moonlight, his face hidden in the dark. I turned on my heel and headed straight for the Brown residence. As soon as I pushed the door open, I saw Catherine flaunting the things she'd gotten with him that day.

Always from a distance. And always... Someone watching. Not Jude. Someone else. I snapped back to the present and found myself in front of a bookstore. Small. Narrow. Hidden between a laundromat and a bubble tea shop. It wasn’t planned. I just walked in. The bell chimed overhead. The air inside was warm and smelled like paper, dust, and cinnamon. There was only one person behind the counter, a girl with pink hair and round glasses. She looked up, smiled, then went back to her magazine.

The next morning, Sean canceled all his meetings just to cheer me up. When we pulled up to the city’s most famous rooftop couples’ restaurant, I saw a heart-shaped display made entirely of fresh flowers. I’d tried to book this place so many times before, but Sean had always been too busy with work to come. This time, to win me over, he booked the entire place for us. However, it felt like biting into candy that had long since gone stale—sweet in theory, bitter in reality.