Kindle Page Turning Novels & Stories

I responded as I turned open the book. Its pages were made of parchment, yellowed with time, adorned with handwritten text. Whoever did this bit must have been a student of calligraphy. "Atcheeew!!!" I sneezed, no thanks to the dust from the book when I had suddenly let go of the cover that I had been holding onto. "Should have opened it softly. That's why the Kindle was invented though." Professor Derrick remarked, referring to the dust I had released into the air. Once the dust was settled, we both leaned in, captivated by the contents within.

I looked around frantically for anything that could help me escape, but my mind was blank. If I continued like this, I would only exhaust myself. Taking deep breaths to calm myself down, I tried to think what could be done. But, how could I think of a solution when I didn’t know what the problem was. Then it struck me; I could check the book. I pulled out all the clothes as quickly as I could and browsed through the pages. I was turning the pages so fast that I almost tore a page. I slowed down after that. The book was too precious to be destroyed in a hurry. I sat down on the bed and turned the pages slowly, paying attention to the details on each page.

It transformed the woman into a completely different person. "I just purchased a tablet for that very purpose," Daniel said. Melinda's mother's smile morphed into a look of horror. "No, that won't do at all. You must have the actual book in your hands—feel the pages. I suggest you get your money back." "But I can have as many books as I want on the device at the same time. That way, if I finish one while Melinda's doing her hair, I can start another while she's applying her makeup," Daniel said.

She pushed a button on the side and the screen on top concertina'd open to treble in size, bringing it up to the size of an iPad or a little larger than his Kindle. "This a folding touchscreen?" He asked, opening his own. "Yep," Jasmine nodded. "You can use it folded or opened, but either way it works. Don't ask me how though. I've no idea." Mark folded his closed again and tapped the screen. He unlocked it following the zig-zag on the screen and navigated through the menu quickly, finding it instinctive and intuitive, a signature of a Benjamin Moore product.

I flipped mine over and stared at the spine, turning the book at different angles until I noticed a slight shimmer on the spine. My heart jolted. This can't be. I opened the book to the first blank page. My breathing became loud in my ears as I swallowed hard. I snapped my fingers and a black flame appeared on my fingertip. I placed it against the page. My heart stopped beating as I watched words suddenly appear. ~~ To my dearest Taitan, I'll be in touch...

It hadn't been touched in a while because it looked brand new though very dusty. I opened it and cold wind blew gushed through my face. It was as strong and cold as the first wind. I turned back to the cover of the page to check for anything but it was blank black. Only golden stripes at the spine of the book didn't make it completely dull. I placed my finger on the book to swipe the pages but the book took control and swiped the page by itself, leading me to a page I would have least expected it to be. 'The joy of a mother'

It no longer sounded entirely like Quinton. Unlike before, when smoke had drifted from his fingers, this time a thick white vapor poured from his hand. It twisted through the air like a living mist. A chill swept through the room. The chandelier trembled. The curtains began to move despite the windows being shut. My eyes widened. The book suddenly started flipping through its pages at an alarming speed. The pages turned so fast that they became a blur. Then the book lifted into the air by itself. I slowly stood. The room had become unnaturally silent. The book finally stopped at a single page and hovered above Damien's body. White smoke poured from the page as if something trapped inside the

Just enough to break from the page for a moment. It didn’t settle anywhere at first. The movement was brief, almost incidental, before it aligned. Toward the direction of the entrance. I held it there for a second. No longer. Then I looked back down. The transition was smooth. Controlled. Intentional. Nothing had changed. I continued. The words on the page arranged themselves into clarity again. The earlier delay faded, replaced by the steady rhythm I was accustomed to. I turned another page, processing the information without interruption.

I closed the book and the feeling of the page itself went away. “Interesting. So the page has to be opened while I hold the book. But I don’t need to touch the page again.” Now there was one final test for me. The test I had been avoiding since. An understanding of the page was in my mind so I already knew what I could do with it. I held the book in my left hand, with the page open. Then I opened my right hand in front of me. It was very easy to do. Suddenly, a new light filled the room. Above my open palm, a new fire burned.

The moon grew brighter, illuminating the water. I saw her. She was smiling up at the stars from beneath the water. I shifted quickly and dived into the water. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her to the surface with me. I carried her to the bank and laid her in the grass. Goddess! She was beautiful but she wasn't breathing. She wasn't breathing. I blinked, confused and scared. I had to do something. She wasn't breathing. I tilted her head upwards and held her mouth open as I breathed two sharp breaths into it. Her chest did not rise. I placed both hands on her chest and pressed down. After pressing down several times, I placed my mouth on hers and gave her three more breaths.