Booktok Reading Chair Novels & Stories

There is a huge window by the left corner of the room with a beautiful view of a garden and the woods behind the main pack house. The large desk stood back with a magnificent black leather chair behind it, one that looked like it was made to fit a king. There were two smaller chairs at the opposite side of the desk and there's one long sofa at the right side of the room set in front of a large book shelf that housed maybe hundreds of books. The couch has a small table beside it that was holding a few bottles of liquor and closed glasses. It looked like the perfect spot to get lost in to the pages of the book for an entire day.

She was glancing around the room, trying to distract herself while she waited on her mom to catch up. The room she was in was a massive building with high ceilings. Thousands of 6 feel tall wooded shelves were standing upright and in rows and columns like a well-trained army. Each shelf held one giant ancient-looking book that was over 6ft tall. In front of each shelf was a small table that ran 6ft long and held 4 tables. Each table had a mechanism that could turn the pages of the book remotely from their seat, mages no longer had to get up from their seat or hire someone to turn pages for them.

He knew this in retrospect because when he woke up it was midnight and the lights in the living room had been turned down and there was a blanket over him that had not been over him when he sat down, and Alexander was in the reading chair with a book, reading by the lamp. The reading chair was a recent addition. It had arrived in January, after Elijah had mentioned—casually, without thinking about it—that the sofa was comfortable but sometimes he wanted to sit somewhere that wasn't the sofa and wasn't the dining table. Alexander had said nothing at the time. Three days later, a chair appeared. It was upholstered in a deep green fabric that Elijah would not have chosen for himself but that he

He sat and he looked at the room. Two people at tables. One with a laptop. One with a book — the actual physical book, the open spine resting at the reading angle, the person's head bent at the concentration. A child in the corner, age perhaps seven, reading what appeared to be a graphic novel, the images large and the text secondary, the child absorbed in the same quality of sustained reading that the fourteen-degree chair had been specified to enable. He looked at the child.

Licking my lips, I take a quick visual measurement of the shelves, and look around the room for a chair to stand on. Finding a plush armchair, I pull it over to the bookshelf and clamber up onto my knees on the cushioned seat. Making sure I’m steady, I slowly get my feet under me, but unfortunately this doesn’t make me tall enough to reach the top shelf. Testing one foot on the arm of the chair, I determine that it won’t topple under my weight. Stretching as far as I can, my fingertips only graze the spine of the book, and I huff in frustration. Keeping one foot on the arm of the chair, I balance the other on one of the shelves, pushing myself up to grasp the book. Just before my fingers clo

What I found instead was a room full of books. Floor to ceiling on three walls, dark shelves packed tightly, the spines worn in the way that meant they had been read and not just collected. A wide desk sat at the centre with two screens and a leather chair behind it, and to the left, a smaller seating area with two armchairs angled towards each other and a low table between them. It smelled of old paper and something faintly woody. Cedar maybe.

I felt a strange wave of pity for whoever had to dust this office, it was probably terrifying to clean things that were so valuable looking. The desk was absolutely massive and dark black. It looked sleek, imposing, cool. Just like Elliott. There was a large black leather chair behind the desk, similar chairs on the other side of the desk but they didn’t have wheels like Elliott’s chair. I looked at the other walls on either side of the room, one with a large reader’s nook with a drink cart similar to the one in my office just to the side of that. There was a very plush looking set of two deep green velvet chairs with a small table in the middle of them directly in front of the window, facin

None of that is all that extraordinary though. I freeze in the doorway of my office. Instead of my usual ergonomic chair, there is a throne behind my desk. A massive, plush leather recliner that looks like it belongs in a first-class airline cabin. It has lumbar support, a footrest, and I’m pretty sure it has a massage function. "He had the maintenance crew move it in an hour ago," Enzo explains calmly. "He said your back needs support." I stare at the chair. It looks comfortable as hell. It’s also completely ridiculous behind my sleek, modern glass desk. This is not a battle I want to pick though.

Determined to save face, she acted like she was in need of some reading material and went to check out Jayems’s extensive bookshelves. She’d been strictly a cable girl and had rarely picked up a book back home. She’d seen Jayems reading in his library from time to time, settled in one of the two leather chairs. Ottomans were positioned in front of each chair, and end tables on each side held lamps for when the daylight faded. The shelves lined three walls. A handsome rug warmed that corner of the wooden floor.

It was a bargain. I’m setting up an area in the lounge space by one of the arched windows as my reading nook. Dad has bought me a large fluffy, pale pink bean bag for the corner and Atlas has given me vouchers for Button’s shops on the hight street where I have my eye on a beautiful mahogany, square table. There’s a matching bookcase I want to get for all my books. Only, I do have a lot of books so I may need to put a bookcase or some shelving up in the bedroom too.