I've Been Reading Books Of Old Novels & Stories

My fingers trailed over the spines of the books, my mind filling over each I'd read, and those I hadn't gotten to. Over the past few days, I had spent my night here reading up, researching in the hope that I could find another book or any information that could tell me more about my people. But everyone I opened told me nothing I wanted to hear, mainly filled with propaganda, and the few that held substance barely mentioned my people in detail, glazing over the fact that we were once beloved and revered. Pushing all thoughts of Mondrian and his actions away, I tied my hair into a loose ponytail and pulled out another old book from the piles I hadn't read. Although I had no hope it would say

It’s like my own personal heaven. I walk slowly between the rows, dragging my fingers along the spines of the books. Some are new. Some are so old their titles have faded off completely. I find books on werewolf history, on herbs and healing, on the different bloodlines of the kingdom. I even find one that looks like a cookbook, filled with strange ingredients I’ve never heard of. I lose track of time flipping through them, sinking into a worn leather chair near the center of the room. The quiet is peaceful. So different from the chaos outside these walls.

" I replied,shaking my head,my eyes still closed. "I think we still have some books about them in the old library-But," Aiden added when he saw my eyes light up with hope. He clearly saw my enthusiasm and needed me to be levelheaded instead of getting ahead of myself. "I don't know if it'd still be readable. It's really old." He was right, there was that possibility and that thought supressed my enthusiasm a little. "Still, I'll take a look." I replied. "Okay, I'll have someone bring it over."

I walked toward the shelves, lazily running my fingers across the spines of the books as I scanned the titles. History of Blood Clans. Treaties of the Northern Territories. Ancient Magical Structures. Boring. Boring. Also boring. Who actually reads this stuff for fun? I kept moving along the shelves until one particular book caught my attention. It looked older than the others, the cover worn and faded like it had been opened a thousand times before. Curious, I pulled it out. The moment the book left the shelf, something clicked behind the wall. I froze. “…Okay.”

the girl observed, knowing that while everyone had their sports preferences, they shared a great passion for literature. "No way!" The older man doubted. "Young people are interested in the old and good literature still?" "My grandfather has a large library at home, and fortunately, he made my cousin and me read several classic works, and I ended up liking some of them a lot. I've read Great Expectations more than once... and also Oliver Twist. I didn't like Bleak House that much, not to say that I love everything I've read from him, but, on the other hand, probably The Old Curiosity Shop is the book I've read the most times in my life."

Pushing the large posh door asides, my eyes roamed around the room, trying to find my old man. “Where is he?” came a silent whisper from me. His scent is faint, so I can't pinpoint his location. I'm still wondering about his whereabouts, I moved further into the room. My old man undeniably loves books, I thought, going over to the mini library. They were countless books in the shelves. Mostly, the books were about ancient history and weird practices. I held no interest in them, but the hard book covers also captivated me. Out of curiosity, I picked out one—it's a bit heavier than normal, but the designs were eye-catching. Immersed in examining it, I never realized my dad's presence.

I asked as I searched the bookshelves for anything new "Well... We had a donation come in last week, so knock yourself out" I smiled at him before I went back to looking for a good book to read As I was browsing thorough the books "We had a few book which are quite old... They should be good" Jonathan said from the front "Okay... Thanks" I picked up some books and went to the next aisle and sure enough there were so many old books Now don't get me wrong... I hate history at school but history from an old book... Had something different about it... You could even say there was something special about an old book

My family brought over most of their records from the Old Country, but it’s not enough. With a frustrated sigh, I slam one of the few hundred old texts shut. More are scattered around the long table in the center of the hall, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. I’m not even sure why we have so many books. It’s not as if anyone actually comes to the library and reads. Not in this day and age. We have phones for that.

I muttered sarcastically, rubbing the muscle in my back I was sure I had pulled carrying the heavy equipment. I looked around the dusty attic, my eye drawing to the part that wasn’t so dusty. I walked over to the bookshelf that was lined with old books, most of which didn't look like they had been opened in years. But there were three books on the second shelf that were dust-free and looked like they had been read recently. My eyebrows furrowed, remembering the bookshelves in my grandfather’s living room. Why wouldn't he keep books that he was reading downstairs? Feeling particularly nosey, I pulled one of the books down and looked it over.