Holds Book Open Novels & Stories

He fixes his eyes glasses as he opens his arms in an embracing way, smiling and calling. “Well, well, well just when will this book opens?” Asking, yet taunting a warning, but somehow envy, pictures of the twelve as show and flashes fast in front of him. With the images that resemble the original, yet life spins in different directions o the GOD’s will and wants. This very book and world’s design are slowly consuming his patience for the day to come. “Just open it, shall we open, the book of Dylan?” Drawing his favorite and favorable sinister smile, the past and ticking time of that day, flashes back, as he whispers the same words.

“Do you have somewhere in the house that is private?” “Mack, I think you came to the right place.” Haven laughed, and she looked at him with a smile. She took his hand and started walking to the back of the house. When he walked into the furthest room in the house, he thought something was slightly off about the room, but he couldn’t figure it out. When she walked to the sidewall, though, she moved the book on the bookshelf, and soon there was a door that was open, and she was pulling it open.

- a man holds an envelope in the hands of a librarian - A familiar name, and I have already heard a surname somewhere. Duk picks up the package and rips it open thoughtfully. The paper wrapper falls to the floor. Duk holds a book, reads the title - Living in Darkness. He looks at her for a couple of seconds and breaks into a sly smile.

She had thought about the corner all weekend and she had thought about the terms and she had thought about the specific thing he had done, offering instead of asking, defining instead of waiting to be told, and she had walked past the book on Saturday morning and Saturday afternoon and Saturday evening and Sunday morning and Sunday afternoon and she had not opened it because she had needed the corner to land fully before she let anything else arrive. The corner had landed. She sat with that for a moment and looked at the empty windowsill and the book on the hall table. Then she got up. Crossed to the hall table. Picked up the book. Light in her hands. The dark blue cloth cover. No title on t

Micha smirked a little, proud and unbothered. We both knew we just started a war with the elder council. More questioning. More drama. More nonsense. But we didn't care. After the mess, Micha asked: "Have you found anything new in the book? I've been too busy lately, I couldn't come." I sighed. "No. The book won't even open unless we both touch it. Want to try now?" "Sure. Let's go." We headed to my room. The second we stepped inside, the ancient book—without anyone touching it—flew open on its own and glowed brightly.

“It's a great thing I am alive to witness this prophecy and at this time a prophet of this temple.” “But?... Prophet how should I be sure that you are not just making this up and pushing responsibilities to my shoulders.” My aunt appears on my side, pulling my ear. He gently walks to me and looking at me with his soft golden eyes he stretches his hand, offering the book. “Here, take.” He doesn't leave, he stays as I open the book. The book weighed more than I imagined, beautifully coated in gold and white its fragrance was more welcoming than its beauty. “How should I open this? It's clearly locked.”

Proof that he tries to change how he is, a little ray of hope for my confused soul. I close it and push it back in beside a black leather-bound book, heart racing slightly in case he sees me going through this stuff and I pause to examine it. Interest piqued because it seems out of place among textbooks. It looks like a journal and when I pull it out and open it, I find that it is.

he paced around the room, running his fingers down the door that was now sealed shut. “Our best bet would be to get through the next prophecy, maybe that will help her.” Luca offered. He turned and looked at the glass encasement where the ancient book rested. As they all followed his gaze, they all saw the book open by itself and come to rest on the drawing of the old man.

He opened the book. "...math sounds less stressful than your life."