Book Delivered From Distraction Novels & Stories

Geneveive Tessa Robert I blinked at the alarm clock and closed my eyes for the eleventh time. It was two a.m., and I was still unable to sleep. I opened my eyes and reached out for the novel chosen by the book club, an old read for me—Firestarter by Stephen King. I wondered why we had to read something like this in a book club where the majority of the members were hopeless romantics. I stared at the folded page and slowly opened it. I was still stuck in chapter eight since I started the book at the beginning of the month. Even though it was an old read, I was still finding it difficult to read it because I was distracted and worried.

There is a bold font that caught my attention right away. Minding what you are doing is the key to slow down time. Maybe, all you need is to put down your phone and focus on the experience. Setting away distraction makes moment feels eternal. I take out my phone and capture the bold font sentences, together with the hand-written note. I quickly shove my phone inside my pocket as I heard footsteps behind me. After putting the book back to its place, I turn around and see Rosie rolled her eyes. Also, that scary guy who is following behind her, with the same sour facial expression as earlier.

I paced up and down and kept staring at the huge clock on the wall. “2:23 am” and he's still not back. He told me not to worry, but how could I possibly do that? How could I do that when he's literally on a dangerous quest? I fidgeted with my fingers, sipping my tea to no avail, I waited for his arrival. “Maybe I need something to distract me.” I made my way to our room and grabbed the latest book he got me. I returned to the living room and tried my best to distract myself. “Fifty Shades of Grey is one heck of a book.” It's just weird how people term this as sexuality.

And sat in the quiet of the sitting room and read. Or tried to read it, even though I didn’t. The words moved across my eyes in the right order and in the right direction and I turned the pages at appropriate intervals and none of it reached anywhere that mattered, and the book that was so interesting turned out to be distracting instead of interesting. But I sat there. With the phone face down beside me. And the quiet around me. And the specific dangerous quality of a feeling that was not being expressed or released or handed to anyone. I was just sitting there, quietly so I gently kept my book on the couch and picked up the remote. I turned on the television and started watching my favori

Willow I’m distracted as I reshelve books in the castle library. My thoughts are far away while I move the book trolley to another aisle and rearrange the books. I can’t even be annoyed at whoever put the books back in the wrong order. There are even books from a different section of the library here, and I don’t care.

Every day, she visited, bringing a little piece of normalcy with her. “I brought you a book,” she said one afternoon, holding up a novel. “It’s a mystery, just what you need to distract yourself.” She settled into the chair next to my bed, her eyes scanning my face. “Thank you,” I’d replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I had disposed of my phone, scared that I might get a message that could make me spiral and terrified at the idea of a random person calling me. Even though I couldn’t focus on the words in the book, trying to force myself to read was enough distraction.

Nothing else. I won't let my emotions be controlled. Be calm Hannah. Be calm. I put my fingers on the cover of the book I held and took a deep breath. I have to read. Yes…that at least would distract me. With another sigh, I crossed the room and settled into a cozy chair by the window. The soft light filtering through the curtains illuminated the pages of the book, and I glanced at the words, trying hard to focus even as I kept conjuring images that were not related to the book in my hand at all.

A girl who shouldn’t have been in my head. Or under my skin. But she was. Tanya Reed was a problem. A sharp one. A stubborn one. And now… a distraction. A fast-growing one. And I hated distractions.

He goes away while I'm staring at everyone, trying to keep myself busy with my thoughts even though I feel out of place. He returned with a canned drink; we found a spot to see and finally sat. I suck at starting up a conversation; instead, I focus on scrolling through my phone while Daniel discusses it with the rest of the people sitting with us; it's a table of four. Then everywhere goes silent; the author of the book goes to the stage, and behind the stage is a projector displaying the book with animation that accompanies it. Titled, “When I broke free”It's a middle-aged woman, possibly in her late 40s.She begins.

I waste no time finding a seat in my most preferred spot, far behind the shelf of books in a concealed and quiet corner, and open up my text book. Five seconds in and I re-read the first line to understand better. Ten seconds in and I’m not grasping anything. A few more seconds and I give up, admitting to myself that I cannot focus. Not to sound like a nerd but reading textbooks is one of the few things that could easily distract my mind when stressed out and now, it’s not working. Just kill me right now. I groan, dropping my head onto the pages. Now, what am I going to do?