Leaves In A Book Novels & Stories

Not yours. NO AUTHOR TRAPPED ETERNALLY, I wrote on the title page. The book snapped shut in my hands like it had been slammed from the inside. Two volumes down the row jerked off the shelf and spun in the air, pages riffling wildly as if panicked. Loose leaves broke free, fluttering like frantic birds before bursting into static.

I can’t help but wonder if this is relevant. “So tell us what the book looks like and we look.” Meadow interrupts my moment of reverie, on her feet and ready to do something more than sitting here and I nod in agreement. Sliding up from my own chair to get busy. “It’s green, large like this one, with a dark vine wrapped around to keep it shut. Leyanne is a witch of nature so it suits. It’s where I learned the spell and I know it’s here. No one ever removes the books, not that they can. The stairwell won’t let a book pass upwards so it will be here wherever I left it.”

As she read the story, she picked up a leaf and began to chew on it absentmindedly. The taste was bitter, but she had grown accustomed to it. She savored the sharp tang of the leaf and let it invigorate her senses. The book was a romance novel, and Aurora couldn't help but giggle at the foolish behavior of the characters. She talked to herself as she read, lost in the story. As she turned the page, she paused to take another leaf from the pouch. Suddenly, she heard a noise outside her door.

All the versions of herself she'd put down along the way, all the— All the smaller shapes she'd made herself into so other people had room. She'd finished that sentence. She'd finished the whole book. She looked at Gerald — seven leaves now, she'd noticed this morning, a seventh leaf small and curled and insistent, just beginning. Seven leaves. She hadn't planned a metaphor. She just kept watering him. He just kept growing. That was the whole story, really. The rest was just the path. She opened a new document. Sat with the blank page. Typed, without planning: Chapter One. Then she stopped.

My imagination was filled with infinite hours spent poring over the dusty shelves and secret passageways of the library. Coming back to Leo, I was holding a book that seemed to be rather old. The cover was covered in elaborate symbols and patterns, and the inside contained secrets that had been kept for many years. It was a wealth of information just ready to be uncovered. I carefully put the book in Leo's hands and saw his look change from one of surprise to one of amazement.