روايات وقصص ضمن Fiction Books For 1st Graders

She smiles as she climbs into bed. Kim smile as she moves over next to Brianna. I walk over taking a seat at the end of the bed as Kim open the book. "The very hungry caterpillar." She read the title to Brianna before opening the book. "In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf. One Sunday morning the warm sun came up and pop out the egg came a very tiny and a very hungry caterpillar." Kim looks over at me sitting on the end of the bed and smile as she turns the page and continues to read the book.

Fair. Apparently being a baby wasn't a valid excuse. Reasonable honestly. Several minutes later she disappeared. God. Then returned carrying an alphabet book. Fair. A very large alphabet book. Reasonable. The kind usually intended for children who could sit upright. God. Not babies who occasionally sneezed at random. Fair. Then Lily sat directly in front of Peanut. Reasonable. Opened the book. God. And school began. Fair. "A." Reasonable. Peanut stared. God.

I didn’t even have a wolf. The next book, The History of Gifts, looked promising. I sat down on the floor and opened it carefully, trying not to get my hopes too high. There were chapters about mind links, healing powers, even wolves that could talk to animals… but not a single word about silver fire. Or glowing fingers. Or dreams about strange women with snow-white hair. I let out a long breath, the kind that made your shoulders sag. I felt tired. Like the answers I wanted were still too far away.

I’ve lived my life, protecting myself from the world, from disappointment, betrayal and lies, but with her, I began to bring down those walls until I didn’t even know when my feelings developed into so much more without even seeing a glimpse of her. I skim over her collection, Motorcycle Club, Mafia... Disney Villain tales… and then there are the classics that she accidentally slipped out that she reads before denying she read them. I crouch down. They may be at the bottom, but the books have been read and I can’t help but smile. Jane Eyre, Anne of Green Gables, Pride and Prejudice, The Thirteenth Tale… Smiling, I take out the first book in the Anne of Green Gables collection, remembering ho

—Flashback— “Bronx, there’s a monster in my closet. Maybe it’s a witch.” I peek into his room. He’s reading a book. I bet it doesn’t have pictures. He says books with pictures are little kid books. I like books with pictures though. Maybe when I’m ten like him, I won’t like picture books anymore? That sounds boring. I’ll like picture books forever. “There’s no monster or witch in your closet.” He keeps reading. “It’s your imagination.”

I missed my mate, my freedom, my friends, Kailin, and everyone at the vineyards. I watched a series about a group of delinquent kids born in space and dropped to Earth to see if the air was already breathable. I finished Episode twelve, and when a particular character pissed me off, I turned it off and went to read something in the study. There were some fiction books, but primarily old books from Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, and Herman Melville. There were self-help and meditation books and a book about mystical creatures. I walked out of the study. If she allowed me to read a book about witchcraft, it might interest me, but that would be as dangerous as walking into the darkness without

"I don't know. I just thought I'd try a long book for a change." "Hey, I just remembered something," Caroline said. "This is funny. When I was in sixth grade, one time I read a really long book, the longest one in the class. Is this for one of Ms. Reeds' famous book reports? Mine was, too. What was it? That's right, The Yearling. It was a great book. A really great book. If you do another long book, read The Yearling." Caroline read The Yearling in sixth grade? Jane hadn't heard of the book until she was in high school.

"You should read more books. Ellie. Books are like ladders of progress for werewolves." "Oh yeah? Do they also include 'XX Bedtime Stories', 'One Hundred Thousand Whys' and 'Those Mysteries of the Universe You Don't Know'?" "What's that supposed to mean, Ellie?" I ask. She picks one of the books I got her. "Jack and the Beanstalk? What nineteen-year-old girl reads childish folktales anymore?" "That's relatable to our legend, Ellie," Chris calmly says. "But not to mine," she protests. "Thanks, but it just isn't what I was expecting."

The flowers and the greenery looked so inviting; I was beginning to forget the scent of nature and the feeling of the breeze on my skin and in my hair. I turned to the long shelf to find something to read to help pass the time. But most of the books were biological journals and some other non-fiction. And I wanted to read fiction; maybe some lying on pages and dreamy characters could help with the boredom. I roamed through the shelves carefully looking for something. Just when I thought the search was going to be harder, I found a few and decided to read the one with the prettiest covers. The book was so interesting; I didn’t know fiction was so good. I never really gave them a chance becaus

For a second, I’m tempted, but then another wave of heat erupts in my chest, and I lose my nerve. “Tell me about the other books,” I say instead. “The other books?” I nod. And as I tuck my knees to my chest and wind my free arm around my knees, breathing through the stuffiness that’s getting more unbearable by the minute, I listen to the most garbled plot summaries I’ve ever heard in my entire life. “Okay. See, there’s this one with a man and his nephew. And they journey to the center of the earth. And there are dinosaurs. And a tornado? Shit—” The brow furrows again. “It might have been a tsunami. Something like that.”