Kindle Page Turning Novels & Stories

Next thing I know she'll be telling me she knows how to fly. "Open it," Alice says, handing the book over. I crack the book in the middle, but... the page is blank. Flipping through the tome, I find that every page is that way. "What am I supposed to do?" I ask. “It’s blank.” "For now," Alice says. The page suddenly begins to fill with words. "It's writing itself," I say, in shock. How is this possible? I turn the book over and study its spine, looking for the mechanical trick. It looks like any other book, though.

My hand stops at the glass bubble and I avoid touching that part. There is a piece of gold string sticking out of the pages and I think it's a bookmarker. I turn to the marked page first. I'm curious to know what spell or enchantment was looked at last. The pages of the book are shiny and thicker than a normal page. It has a silver kind of tinge to them. I begin to examine the page that is marked with the gold string. It has a diagram of what looks to be the sun and all the planets around it.

But as I turned the pages, I was met with emptiness—a void waiting to be filled with knowledge and secrets long forgotten. “Huh?” Curiosity piqued, I traced my fingertip along the edge of the page, only to be met with a sharp prick as the book drew blood. “O-ouch!” Startled, I watched as crimson droplets stained the pristine surface, merging with the blank pages like ink on parchment. With trembling hands, I turned to the first page, my heart racing with anticipation. And as if by magic, words began to appear before my eyes, weaving a tale of destiny and prophecy that sent shivers down my spine.

“But let me first… document what I saw. Some truths must be preserved before they are spoken.” She raised her hand and clapped once. A surge of air stirred the chamber, rattling the bookshelves until one leather-bound book tore free and floated towards her. It hovered in the air, its pages blank… then, as though stirred by an invisible hand, they began to turn rapidly. Flip…Flip…Flip. Words spilled onto each page, lines of ancient script etching themselves in dark ink, filling one page after another until the book was no longer empty. At last, the turning ceased, the final page inscribed before the book closed with a soft thud in her palms.

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He blows off the little specs of dust on the book before he starts to open up the page pages. “Just give me a minute,” he say as he starts to turn over each page meticulously. Suddenly, he seems to reach the pitch he has been looking for. “See!” he says with a high pitch- as if to tell me that the chance for him to prove himself has finally come. Then he points at a text in the book. “You can read it yourself,” he says and I start to read out loud. I read the text over and over again, about nine times before I fully understand it. The text actually agrees with Charles told me before.

Her fingers trembled as she flipped to the familiar page where she always found his name. But the page was blank. Her breath caught in her throat. She turned another page but still, there was nothing. Then another. And another. It was empty. Panic surged through her veins. "No, no, no," she whispered, her voice shaking as she frantically turned the pages. However, her hands suddenly froze when she noticed something even more alarming. The edges of the pages were disintegrating. The parchment was crumbling and tiny specks of ash began falling onto her lap as if an invisible fire was consuming it.

Linda immediately pulled the stealer’s book from her back, placed it on the table and hurriedly flipped through the pages to find the blank page. “There, I need help with this page, it’s really impor-” “Go away, I can’t help you.” She suddenly cut Linda off, waving her hands dismissively. Linda heaved out a heavy sigh, shaking her head. “You’re really going to pretend you don’t know me huh? Mrs. Kennedy?’ “I don’t know you, use the door, I can’t help.” The older woman spoke again, not even casting her glance but kept her focus on the book before her.

Flipping to the next page, I try to see if there's any indication of a title, since neither the front page nor first page have one. I don't see anything of the sort. Instead, I find a paragraph of ink marks that look similar to the one on the first page. "Is this a joke?" I flip to the next page and find the same handwriting, but the text in this one looks longer. Groaning, already starting to get irritated by the seemingly pointless search, I flip through some more pages, hoping that I find something meaningful. Rather, most of the pages of the book are blank. Just bare sheets of paper.

No corners bent. He closed his eyes, tracing the gesture in his mind. Left hand pressing down the page. Right thumb and forefinger pinching the corner, gently lifting, flipping it over. Then forefinger and middle finger smoothing the new page flat. Her sleeves would be rolled up, revealing the chilblain scars on her wrists. When she turned a page, her head would tilt slightly down. Her collar would shift to the left. Because her body's center of gravity would shift right as her right hand turned the page, the collar naturally sliding left.