Book In Grass Novels & Stories

The moon was a jagged shard above, and my lungs were whistling; a thin, pathetic sound that mocked my expensive silk coat. [Roman’s Voice]: [Distant, echoing through the bond] Where is she? Her scent is fading near the northern ridge. She wouldn't dare cross. She’s too fragile for the woods at night. She’s probably just sulking in the garden. I leaned against a birch tree, the bark cool against my feverish skin. I wasn't sulking. I was waiting. A twig snapped. Not the clumsy snap of a human, but the deliberate, heavy crunch of something that weighed four hundred pounds and knew exactly where every leaf lay.

Then, the grass began to scream. It wasn't a vocal sound; it was the sound of molecular vibration. I looked down and watched as the soft, swaying blades of grey turned translucent, then brittle, then reflective. Within seconds, the field had become a jagged sea of obsidian glass. The wind, which had been a gentle caress, now sounded like a whetstone grinding against a blade.

"Sable, look at me. I need you to breathe and let me work." "I am breathing," she said, though her face had gone pale. "It is not just holding me. I can feel it trying to decide something. It feels like being weighed." Kieran moved forward carefully, positioning himself to help if needed, while I circled to watch the tendrils, my stomach twisting at the sight of grass that pulsed like something alive and hungry, watching us as much as we were watching it. "Do not let it decide anything," Dorian said, cutting through the last tendril, and the blackened grass recoiled sharply, hissing faintly before going still and lifeless again, as though it had simply lost interest.

So far, I hadn’t found much. “Hmm,” Griffin replied, leaning close to look at the book in front of me. I could feel him press closer against my shoulder in his attempt to see what I was referring to. I gently scooted my chair a little further away as I moved the book closer to him, giving us enough space to comfortably look at the book together. “I’m not sure,” he replied as he scooted his chair closer to mine, bumping my shoulder with his once again, to peer down at the page. It was an old herbology book that listed rare and unusual plants that could be found on the continent and their various uses.

Besides, I haven't had a single Saturday moon-cycle off since I packed up my life and migrated back to this giant territory. I reach down and drag my fingers right through the sharp green grass blades, just so I can tell her I literally touched the earth. The afternoon sun is glaring down, and the heavy heat feels amazing against my bare arms. While I keep scanning the pages of my book, a massive shadow suddenly blocks out the bright light on the parchment. It isn't a stray cloud floating by. It's a wolf.

It was a shockwave of vitality. Cr-crack. The sound of life breaking through the impossible echoed across the silent dunes. Emerald-green grass, thick, lush, and smelling of morning dew, erupted from the parched earth beneath his feet. It didn't grow with the slow patience of nature; it surged with the ferocity of a flood. Within seconds, the orange sand around him was replaced by a carpet of deep, soft clover and wild moss. Ressi took his first step forward.

While I waited for her, my eyes wandered around the books on the table and one caught my attention since it was walking about the plant and the earth. I grabbed the book with much interest and began to scan through but something strange happened. The book began to shine brightly, making me tremble. Just then, Leemah walked in with some herbs and a grinding tool to crush them with but she stood frozen on a spot like she had seen a ghost with horns. "What did you do to that book?" She asked mouth opened as she took me in. "Uh.. nothing." I wasn't sure what to say to the woman so I dropped the book on her table instead.

He said, before he disappeared with Granny into the backyard. I studied the place for a while, not too bad for an old man living alone. Then I saw a couple of books, stacked up beside the bags of onions. I bent over, as I pinched my nose, reaching out to one. “Agro Chemicals,” I whispered to myself, disappointed. I spread the other books to get a good view of them at once and finally, one caught my interest. It was a small book, wrapped in brown leather, and coated with dust.

Demetrius asked, confused by the word that held no bearing in any conversation they’d been having. “Grass,” Jamie repeated, crouching down, and running her hand through the green carpet that reflected the pale light of the moon. She wiggled her toes, flexing them to grab at the slender blades like they were the most interesting thing she’d encountered in some time. “This is what it feels like…” Jamie plucked a blade from the ground, twirling it between her fingers. “It’s…different than I imagined.” She flopped onto her back with her limbs splayed in her repose, taking her time to appreciate her mundane surroundings. Jamie’s words brought more questions, the kind that were equally perplexing

she curiously asked. “Uhm... That was a journal, baby. Your personal diary... I mean, if you grow old someday, you will realize things... Things that you couldn’t ask to another person because you will be afraid or scared to make them think that you are weird or something... So if ever that you have some questions about yourself and you don’t know whom to ask it, you can write it down in here...” “Really? Will I be able to find the answer then?” “Maybe... As time passes by, if you read the first pages of this diary, you will finally be able to answer that question all by yourself. It’s because you already experienced it... That’s when you realize that you finally grow a lot over the long per