How Read A Book Novels & Stories

"That the people who stay are the ones who were supposed to." He looked at the book. "Not the ones who were convenient. Not the ones who were merely suitable." He looked back at her. "The ones who were supposed to." She sat with that for a long moment. Then: "Read it to me." He looked at her. "It's a children's book." "I know," she said. "Read it to me." Something moved in his expression. "All right," he said. He opened the book. He read it in twenty minutes—the whole of it, slowly, in the kitchen with the September evening at the windows and the south garden doing its seasonal work and the house quiet around them in the way it was quiet on Friday evenings when it was simply being held by th

It was an apology, an explanation, and her book. He transferred the book file to his e-reader and he made himself comfortable in his armchair and he read. He read with the intention of finding those tell-tale signs to prove he was right, except he got so engrossed in the story that he forgot to look for them. He read for hours.

I ask her, still watching her eyes scanning fast over the pages before they finally blink up at me. “Yeah, I am,” she plasters a smile on her face and turns to another page of the book, “I’m just trying to make sense of some of these techniques. The illustrations are a little… weird.” Lies. “Reading them too fast won't help you,” I cork a serious brow at her, “To make sense of them, you have to actually pause and study them closely. Do you want me to help?” She waves a dismissive hand. “I think I’ll try to get a hang of them on my own first, then ask questions later.”

I have read half of the book just to get immersed in what Elva likes. “You read books?” Elva asks me. I sit on the bed and watch as she sits beside me. “I want to like what you like, read what you read, understand what you understand. Hell, I’ll worship the ground you walk on.” Elva stares at me in surprise. “I-I...” “Let’s just read.” I say quietly. We both rest against the headboard of my bed, engrossed in the book. Elva seems really interested in the book even though she has obviously read the book at least a dozen times.

I pulled away as soon as I felt him touch me. "I'll be down once I've finished this book," I lied again. I turned my attention back to the books, not worrying about the fact that I would be hurt again by not wanting him to touch me. The more books I read, the better I started to feel. I didn't know what it meant; all I knew was that I needed to read them. Every part of me screamed for the information that was in them. But the strange thing was, it wasn't about the words that were written on the pages as I flicked through them. I didn't read a single word. As I scanned the pages, I could hear the voices of the people who had written the books. They were telling me their stories.

He should be with her, comforting her and not here. “Hey, Brianna,” he said with a soft laugh. “Learning to read is really important in life. It opens up a whole world of joy hidden in words, sentences…In books, stories. I made a promise to teach you and I’m keeping to that. So whether you’re interested or not, I’m going to read. If you don’t want to listen, you can go ahead and cover your ears. I’m going to start now.” He settled back in his chair, getting ready to read.

My body sliding down to the floor as I sit on the floor, my back resting on it and somehow, I can tell he is doing the same. After some minutes, I see a book slide under the door, a favorite book of mine as I pick it, his voice saying from the other side of the door "Read to me" Read to me. Just like how he always asks me to. I want to not read, I want to tell him to go away. I know he does not ever listen and actually understand what I say, but he still keeps asking me to read. So I do that. I pick the book, my hands trembling as I flip open a page, my eyes landing on the it as I begin to read "Ben h-has to learn about s-surviving on h-his own. He would miss his g-grandma and her c-cookies

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Even though I asked the question, I wasn't necessarily sure that I wanted to know the answer. "Are you going to take a look?" He asked, beginning to lose patience. "I didn't just waste my precious time hunting that for you to pet." Flushing I quickly lifted the book from the desk and opened it. "There isn't a table of contents." I said slowly, beginning to flip through the pages. "How am I supposed to know if what I'm looking for is in this?" "Do you not know how to read?" Geofrey asked, reaching up a hand and flicking my forehead. "Take it with you; read through it. Bring it back to me tomorrow when we proceed with your first magic lesson."

I just think I’m going to over-read and end up becoming a walking, talking book and who would want that? I walk into my room and shovel through the many books in my bookshelf, trying to find one I haven’t read before and the only book I find is the cowboy’s bride. I have read it before, I just didn’t get to finish it because of…. you know who. I pick it, my torch and grab my thick, brown blanket and make my way back to the living room. Getting on the couch and I spread it out before entering it. I cover my whole body up, including my head, so that I can see nothing else but darkness in the blanket. I turn on the torch and flip the book to where I stop, which is page eighty-nine, and I contin