Imagine That Books Novels & Stories

—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.”

The human spirit or soul has a special library which is very far from the angelic library. Rail looked one by one from bottom to top using his wings. Rail was very confused, there were too many books that made him confused which book to choose on the shelf. There's a lot of talk about humans on library bookshelves. "Aah, why are there so many books? So confused which one to read?" Rail tried to take one book among the rows of books that were neatly arranged.

Every time I had tried, the object was always within arm's reach. "Okay," I murmured softly, a gentle smile curling my lips as I nibbled on my finger in a mixture of eagerness and apprehension. "Let's do this." I fixed my gaze upon the book, allowing my mind to conjure a vivid image of it in my imagination. I could envision its weathered spine, the softness of its white pages, the scent of ink imprinted upon it. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to become consumed by the vision, surrendering wholly to the formidable power of my imagination.

Stop. Uncle told me that I'm the kind of person who would just think of some silly ideas that are often unlikely to happen. I am not quite sure of that, but maybe the reason behind my weird imagination is from reading books about fictions and fantasies. Maybe. I let out a yawn while I browse through the pages of the book I was studying. It feels kind of drowsy when you're reading a book with no pictures in it. I am maybe an athlete student at my school, but I still need to maintain a passing grade. I don’t know where my study leads me.

Now your turn”. “I do not know how to call, or the names of the books I want to read”, I heard my voice, barely a whisper. He chuckled again, whilst my cheeks burned red. “You do not need to know any such detail. Simply think of what you wish to learn and what you need – the books will present themselves to you” he instructed. “You speak of them with care. As if they are .. alive????”, I looked at him puzzled. “They are. They magic within them maybe ancient, but it is alive” he said looking at the book, caressing its covers gently as if it was a child.

To be honest, this is too exaggerate for him to do. Did he even think about the money he wasted if these books were stock for long waiting for them to be read? What if termites and live around here? It would be such a waste if these books would end up being destroyed by those pests rather than consumed by the minds of a true-blooded reader. At this moment, I can't help but feel sad while looking at the massive inventory of books inside this place. I wish I have the authority to read all of them.

“I would prefer to have more illustrations in our books. The words aren’t that enticing, even.” Elizabeth gave out a bit of a laugh before saying, “Brother, books are made to inspire, to nourish your mind. Books aren’t meant to be some kind of museum.” She continued, “Words are meant to be poetic. They are meant to be in such a way so your mind can think. Books are supposed to take you to different places, places where you can’t go.” “I will try next time,” I sighed. “I suggest that you do that as much as possible. Even the wisest men in this world read books because even they don’t know everything,” she comforted.

Maya would be no use to me if they managed to slip inside my mind. The oasis in my head was fuzzy at first, the details an annoying haze. As I continued taking steady breaths, the image became clearer. Crystal blue waters, swaying wheat grass, and the scent of nature in the air. I imagined myself delving deep within my own head, a library forming around me. Rows upon rows of empty books lined oak shelves, each cover a different style and color. I walked the dark halls of my mind, plucking a deep amber book from it's place on the shelf. The cover was dark, but intertwined with threads of gold.

“They’re yours too. Take whatever you want.” “Really?” Her eyes sparkled. Lucas chuckled. “Yes. Pick them quickly.” Almost flying, she ran towards the shelves that made Lucas shook his head smilingly. “I promise to take only one or two books. Any recommendation?” “The shelves at the inner corner, I called them section of imagination. I put all books that entertain me there. You’ll like it.” She let a chuckle escape as she stepped towards the corner. “Section of imagination. What an odd name.”

I sounded so loud and shocking. Adelaide froze, before she turned slowly. “And why not?” Because it’s dangerous. Because every story I ever heard about these books ended badly. But what I said was different. “Those texts influence the mind,” I said. “They make people see things that are not real.” Adelaide stared at me like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You think I’m imagining things?” “That is not what I said.” “It is exactly what you said.” The room suddenly went silent, as we both stared at each other.