Books That Are Read To You 소설 & 이야기

The act of reading became a form of self-care, a deliberate choice to invest time in a world where narratives unfolded with the promise of resolution. As the hours passed, Veronica found herself enchanted by the author's storytelling prowess. The book, a vessel of imagination and solace, became a companion in her solitude. The gentle rustling of pages marked the passage of time, a rhythmic journey that mirrored the ebb and flow of emotions within her.

This is kind of fun. "I brought you some books," I set them down on the bare bed frame. I almost lose it when she crawls over to me in the big-ass sweater. "Woah, these are shiny," she says taking the City of Bones book. "You have so many books," "Some of these go in a specific order," I say and start lining them up for her. "Start here," "You're leaving them all here? I don't just have to pick one?" "Yeah, these are all for you. These are educational ones," I tap Jayk's books. "They belong to Jayk,"

And even when they hadn’t… I no longer let them land. I had too much peace in me now. There wasn’t room for shame anymore. Back at the house, I carried the books Darren had ordered for the nursery upstairs and placed them on the newly assembled shelf. They were all hardcovers with soft pastel covers and gold-stamped lettering: Goodnight Moon, The Velveteen Rabbit, Where the Wild Things Are, Dream Big, Little One, I Am Enough. I traced the spine of each book with my fingertip, whispering the titles softly.

“Thank you.” “Is that all, Your Highness?” “Yes, Reid. Good night.” “Good night, Prince Jarren.” I hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed. I picked up the book off my desk and propped myself against the headboard. I looked at the cover. “What to Expect When You’re Expecting .”Yes, I was reading a pregnancy book. I wasn’t sure how much of it would relate to Jillie and me since our baby wasn’t human, well, not completely human, but I was finding out many different little facts. It was…fascinating.

I can play you songs and read you audiobooks…’ ‘Okay. Okay, Alexa. If you can’t get me to work or get me food, you’re pretty much useless.’ She jabbed. ‘Technically, I can order an uber and pizza. McDonald’s and Starbucks too.’ ‘This is so cool. Maybe, you could read me an audiobook just before I fall asleep tonight.’ ‘What kind of books do you like?’ the VA asked. ‘Young Adult, romance, horror, mystery, crime…’ ‘According to a recent survey, people who read lots of horror tend to act out what they read. Often times, they try to imitate the villain in the book and…’

Chup looked away from the book. "What? How? Who is reading the book?" She laughed. "It's from the device." Chihun tapped her glasses. "It scans the page and reads it out loud." Mrs. Chup's face lit up even more after Chihun responded. "That's incredible." She felt around for Chihun, who reached out his hands. "So I'll be able to read my book." Her voice cracked. "You'll be able to read all your books, now." he patted her hand, Mrs. Chup rubbed her eyes.

I wish I had enough money for a phone and cordless headphones because it would be nice to fill some of this time with audio books. Maddie and I visit the public library every single Saturday morning. We check out the maximum number of books that we’re allowed, and we finish most of them before the next visit. We are both speed readers and enjoy learning as much as we can on almost any subject. But I can’t read on the job, so despite the library having free books on audio, most of my day is spent in silence.

In April of the thirty-first year, on a Saturday evening, Don read Ernest the first section of the fourth book. The reading had been established as the form of sharing across three previous books — the reading aloud in the sitting room, the listener in the chair, the fire or the lack of fire depending on the season. April was past the fire in the thirty-first year as it had been past the fire in most of the previous Aprils. The sitting room had the quality of the late spring evening — the windows open to the garden, the sound of the birds in the last of the light, the specific quality of the building when it was warm enough that the fire was not necessary but cool enough that the evening had

At his large hands on the table and his eyes anywhere but my face. “Damien,” I said. “It’s just wood,” he said. It was not just wood. Tessa gave books. A carefully chosen stack, children’s stories with beautiful illustrations, the kind that were as much for the parents reading them as for the child hearing them. Tucked between two of them was a small card in her handwriting. For all the nights you read these until you have them memorized. I looked at her over the stack and she lifted her shoulders in that small honest way she had when she meant something more than she knew how to say out loud.

He gestured toward the narrow aisle between fiction and children’s books. “Storage wasted on that back room. And don’t get me started on the courtyard out back. Prime square footage doing nothing but growing weeds.” Before she could fire back, the kids started filing in for storytime, backpacks thumping as they dropped onto the colorful rug. Elena shot him a warning look and moved to the front. She picked up *The Adventures of Benny the Bookworm*, her voice shifting into the warm, animated tone she used for the little ones.