Book Body Talk Novels & Stories

‎ ‎The this that holds the appearance of chapters and stories and characters and readers without ever being touched by them. ‎ ‎The this that lets galaxies swirl and dissolve without preference. ‎ ‎The this that lets a single tear form and fall without commentary. ‎ ‎The this that lets these words appear on a page without claiming authorship. ‎ ‎The this that lets the page turn without turning. ‎ ‎The this that lets the book close without closing. ‎ ‎Right now, in the ordinary rise and fall of your breath, this. ‎ ‎In the subtle weight of your body against the chair, this.

The librarian didn’t fall so much as… come unbound. Once the lockbook was out of its chest, its whole body lost the logic that had been holding it together. Volumes that had been ribs and limbs and vertebrae a heartbeat earlier juddered, then shook loose, tumbling in awkward cascades.

"And I engaged with five biological variables under the age of four." "You read to the kids?" "I educated them on metamorphosis." "Did you scare them?" "They called me a giant. But they did not flee." "That's a win." Cale walked over to the desk. He kissed the top of Elion's head. "I brought you something," Cale said. "What?" Cale pulled a book from his coat pocket. A library book. The Physics of everyday Things. "For research," Cale said. "For your book. So you get the science right."

And the thoughts of her scare me now because she hasn't been answering her phone. "Classic," he comments drawing me out of my death filled thoughts. "Yep. What about you?" "Gray's anatomy." My eyes pop," isn't that like a movie?" "No it's not," he sounds offended," it's a book about the human anatomy." I laugh," have you ever read for fun?" "Yes," he turns off the shower and steps out. Wrapping a towel around his waist. I had hidden behind the book I was holding, but secretly watching his every move. His eyes lock with mine and I quickly pull my eyes behind the book.

He reached down, grabbed one with a thick hardback and smacked my back with it. “Read the title while I fuck you,” he commanded. I looked. “History of… ah! Anatomy.” His thrust cut me off. “Louder. Describe it dirty.” “History of bodies,” I panted. “Fucked and used like mine.” He laughed and smacked the book against my ass harder. “Good slut. Keep crawling.” We moved around the aisle, his hips snapping as sweat dripped from him onto my back, mixing with mine. The floor felt sticky under my knees.

Time and space were meaningless, as he was at the very center of nothingness. Then there came a vague figure in front of him. Drawing the sword, moving the sword and putting back the sword. A series of simple and routine movements. --------------- We have opened a discussion post on Facebook Group about this book , and you can post anything you want to say about this story, and we will invite the original author to unpuzzle all your questions. The post link is : https://www.facebook.com/groups/TapReader/, so just shoot! Besides, if you have found out any bug of TapRead, you can also find a post in Facebook group for you to complain.

He thought about the whole of the five years as a body-knowledge project — the interior opened not through the decided commitment but through the daily experience, the body learning the attending before the mind had the methodology. The body knows. He had been trusting it for five years. He opened the library notes. He wrote: Miriam: the library was designed in the body as much as in the drawing. Body to body — the attending received in the body and given in the building and received in the body again. Fourteen degrees. The sustained reading. The body tested it and knew. This is the practice: trust the body. Not over-provide. Give it enough. Let it know. The library opens in twelve weeks. Th

Alie The invitation says Conversation on Story: Building Worlds for Real Life which is the kind of title that makes you feel smart while you drink tea out of a paper cup and pretend the folding chair isn’t a folding chair. The bookstore is small, all honeyed wood and lamps that try to be kind. Someone strung twinkle lights between nonfiction and essays, like stars got cozy in the ceiling.

My body, however, was humming with a dangerous awareness. “Fascinating, yes.” He picked up a small, leather-bound book from his desk, turning it over in his hands. It looked like a volume of poetry. “Sometimes,” he murmured, his voice dropping slightly, “the most profound lessons are learned outside the conventional syllabus.” He glanced at the book, then back at me, his eyes dark with unspoken meaning. “Don’t you agree?” The double entendre was almost unbearable. My throat tightened. He was talking about the lessons he had taught me with his body, lessons that had shattered my world and remade it in a single night.

Dear Reader Thank you for reading the first chapter of the book called, Sins Of My Body. Sins Of My Body was originally written as an Interactive Story Game. I am in the process of adapting it into a novel form. The original version contains a great deal of dialogue to fit the platform for which it was intended. Though you can enjoy the story in its interactive format too as currently published. (eg when Veronica speaks, the format will be as this: Veronica ~ “Let me go, creep.”)