Book Picking Up The Pieces Novels & Stories

And for the first time since this all began he wasn’t thinking about how to control the situation. He was thinking about something much scarier. What if he couldn’t? Across campus, under the same tree Diamond was still sitting with her book open. Same page. Unturned. Thelma noticed. “You’ve been reading the same paragraph for ten minutes.” She blinked slightly, like she’d been somewhere far away. “…Have I?” He nodded once. She looked down at the page. Didn’t read it. Just stared.

It was then I noticed something. One spot on the floor looked different. The floor didn't match the rest of the floor. I chucked and dropped down to my knees, pressing my hand against the spot. It was loose so I slipped my fingers into the small crack and pulled it. The tile lifted and inside it was a small book. “There you are,” I smiled and a laugh left my throat. “If I can't have this pack then I'll burn the secrets so it stays hidden.” I was about to pick it up when the sound of the door opened snapped through the room. I turned fast, the tile closing back with the ledger still inside.

is not it ! I was confused while thinking, then I raised my head sighing to look at the library again. There was a distinctive book that was longer than the rest of the books but a little high. Curiosity and love of exploration forced me to raise my body and try to pick it up many times until I succeeded with difficulty..but because I took it from its corner, I dropped some papers from it. It was accidentally folded inside, so I bent over to put it back in. I was collecting them and did not bother to open them so as not to exaggerate the violation of Chris' privacy, but .. one of them was not paper, its texture was like a picture!

Now felt like a good time. I pulled one box closer and opened it, taking out clothes, books, random items, placing them where they belonged. It helped. A little. The small, repetitive movements gave my mind something to hold onto. Until it didn’t. Because no matter what I touched, what I moved, what I tried to focus on… he found his way back in. I picked up another item, about to set it aside, when something caught my eye. A book. Simple. Dark cover. Nothing special at first glance.

She has seven picture books wedged against her body at a structural angle that cannot last, and it doesn’t — the bottom two slide free and she catches one with her elbow and loses the other entirely. “I need all of them,” she announces. “You can have three,” Melody says. Mia looks down at the floor, then at the stack, then at Melody with the expression of someone doing very serious triage. Leo picks up the fallen book and hands it back without being asked.

With that quiet place inside me that had been growing stronger every day. The metal responded. Soft. Subtle. Different pieces pulling in different directions. Some dull. Some quiet. Some— Calling. My fingers moved slowly through the pile, lifting pieces one by one. Feeling. Listening. Until— There. A piece that thrummed faintly in my hand. Long. Dense. I set it aside. Then another. And another. Each one carrying that same shape. That same intent. Bjorn didn’t interrupt. Didn’t guide. Just watched.

There is no art, or color really in my room. “Alright well let us get started. Where are your books?” Hannah’s bubbly personality is shining through again, she is trying to put me at ease, and it is working. I walk in and lead Hannah over to where there is a loose floorboard near the corner. In this little hole is the only treasure I own, my books. The floorboard is being stubborn today and does not come up as easily as I would have liked. Finally, it breaks free and I can move it to the side. As I am pulling my first book out Caleb surprises us both by showing up. Hannah and I had been so focused on the floorboard we did not hear him approach, and his voice startled us a little.

My Grandma died some few years ago but not after telling me everything I have to know, not after leaving a great burden on my shoulders. It was after her death that I decided to relocate. Thea tried all her best to let me stay but I told her I had to leave for my own good. I know that it is bad and very coward of me to always relocate when I am betrayed. I know I should learn to face my demons but what can a broken person really do? What good can ever come out of a broken Pieces of heart? Thea even insisted to follow me here too but I immediately turned her down and explained things clearly to her and she eventually understood.

Her warning trails over the door as she walks away. I sniff a few times before reaching down to the scattered pieces of my favourite novel. It had taken a month of work in the cafe to get my hands on this book. And now nothing is left of it. Gathering all the bits of paper, I put them in the trash can. Goodbye, Jane Austen.

I arranged the throw pillow and moved to his desk and started arranging the files. I bent down and picked up the tossed papers and moved them to the trash can before moving again to the desk to get it arranged. Amidst the arrangement, I noticed something like a picture stuck almost in between a book as I pulled the side drawer open. It looks like the person was doing fast and didn't remember to put it very well. I placed it back but with the act of curiosity, I pulled the drawer open and slid out the book. I suddenly felt a nagging pain in my heart as I tried to bring out the picture, my heart started pacing so fast that I could feel my pulse.