Biblioteca Gabriel García Márquez Novels & Stories

I return to the palace, after tiring myself in my forays into these new lands. Jafar informs me where the library is and that there is a plethora of old books, classics of English literature, French and I find Gabriela’s Clove and Cinnamon version in English, besides Captains of Sand and Tereza Batista, all of Jorge Amado, apparently we have a lover of Brazilian literature here in Bahrain. I take a volume of “Grandes sertões veredas” and decide to re-read, writers like Jorge Amado, João Ubaldo Ribeiro, Guimarães Rosa are never too much, it is always a new pleasure to rediscover them.

I kept reading the titles of the books which were placed and nothing was interesting. I turned and moved to the other side and was surprised to see Gabriel. He was pulling a book out and was opening it. I never saw him here before and it quite surprised me, my eyes moved to the book he was holding. The title of the book was “Creator of life,” it looked eye-catching and expensive. “What are you doing here?” He asked all of a sudden, I jumped in surprise. “Huh... Um! To read books,” I replied, Looking over the books in front of me, he gave a blank look and walked to the bench at the corner.

I rolled my eyes and leaned back against my chair. “Oh man, she gave you a typical book that women like to read” “Cheesy romance?” I shuddered. Gabriel laughed slightly, jutting the book in my direction. “Don't ever say that to a woman's face” “What? They don't like being told that?” “They treasure this type of…words on papers…” he started turning the book again like it was something interesting. “” It's full of vulgar…words and scenes” I shuddered slightly.

"I hope I'm not interrupting." "How did you—" "Get up? Security knows me, darling. I've been coming here for years." She walks past me into the living room, her heels clicking sharply on the stone floor. She runs her hand along the back of the sofa. "Nothing's changed. Still so sterile. I told Gabriel a thousand times this place needs warmth." She picks up a book I left on the coffee table—one of Gabriel's from the library. "The Count of Monte Cristo. Gabriel's favorite." She sets it down with a thud. "He identifies with Dantès, you know. The man wronged by the world, building an empire on revenge."

I murmur then read the rest "annd Prr-edjustice? Nope. Again." "Prre-dyu-dis? Prejudice?!"I exclaim quietly. Pride and prejudice! I can feel that I read it right. I walk to where Gabriel's book was lying cover up. It was too long but I can spell it. T-H-E M-A-K-I-N-G O-F T-H-E A-T-O-M-I-C B-O-M-B I am pretty sure I recognize the word bomb but I might be wrong. Why would Gabriel read those kinds of book?

I hadn’t even known a room was back here but seeing the door perched open, my interest is piqued. I poke my head into the dim, lamp-lit room, Gabriel whispering to himself as he skims through a book or two. The walls are shelves, stacked left to tight in old, dusty books, antique and expensive, I’m sure. Most of the titles are about ancient wolves and folklore. He most notice my scent and sits up, his light eyes weary and dazed. “My dear, can I help you with something?” I look over my shoulder, my laptop and files splayed out over his desk where he hasn’t been able to do much work at his own desk for the last few days. “I came by to do a little research, that’s all.”

Paintings adorned three walls while the last wall was all built-in bookcases filled with an eclectic mixture of works. Gabe loved to read. Jace and Ash teased Gabe about being a bookworm, but it was a passion that Mia shared with Gabe. While Gabe had given her the necklace and earrings she’d worn to the party the night before, that same Christmas, she’d given him a signed first edition of a Cormac McCarthy novel. “You look nervous,” Gabe said, breaking into her thoughts. “I won’t bite, Mia. Not yet anyway.”

My voice turned a little eerie, and it was followed by a gushed of wind. But it did not scared Gabriel, “You should stop reading books.” “Why? Because I have a wild imagination compared to most of the people? Books gave me nothing, but knowledge and escape, so I will never stop reading.” “Speaking of reading, here…” He handed me something that was covered in a dark cloth. I started opening it, and asked, “What is this?” “My apology. Sorry that I teased you the other night.”