Light For Books Novels & Stories

Eventually, however, I picked myself up, put the papers back in the envelope and took it with me, putting it in one of the suitcases that I then brought to the house. The house and property were really beautiful. Behind the house there was a forest, on the left side there was a lake. House itself was white, with red tiled roofs and two chimneys, one larger and one smaller. The main wing was slightly bigger than the second side wing, and from it was coming out an even smaller side wing, which mainly housed a kitchen and a pantry, which had the stove from which the smaller chimney opened up. Another part of the side wing was occupied by a small dining room, and then the corridor led to the mai

In this environment, books could theoretically last forever. Even the light was kept intentionally dim, only coming on when people entered a room so that the rays wouldn't degrade the paper or the bindings of the books. In rooms where especially valuable books were stored, the light was a creepy red color, the lower wavelengths being less damaging to paper. Jacquard had come to love the odd smell of the stacks, the dim light, and the cramped condition. But now that he suspect a crime was about to be committed, the stacks seemed a little frightening. All of these books were kept mostly for historical reasons and as sources of information. If you just wanted to read them, it was much more conv

The library was dimly lit, the soft glow of desk lamps casting warm pools of light across the rows of bookshelves. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and ink, a comforting aroma that wrapped around Charlie, Liam, Maya, and Ethan as they settled into their usual study nook as they prepared for their upcoming mid term exams. The four friends had claimed a large wooden table in the corner, surrounded by towering shelves filled with ancient tomes and modern textbooks alike.

It was industrial, bolted and so out of place. He didn’t say anything, he just keyed in a code, waited for a soft click and then the air hissed the way do. The lights inside flickered to life one after the one, revealing rows upon rows of books, bound in leather, ribbon, and velvet. Stacks of brittle notes, sealed drawers, scrolls in temperature-controlled glass. Nirvana feet took action before she could stop it and her eyes looked around as if trying to assimilate everything and commit it to memory.

What was happening? Before she could react, a brilliant, golden light erupted from the book's spine, flooding the room with warmth and brightness. The air around her shimmered, filled with soft, glowing particles that floated like stars in the night. Selene gasped, her breath catching as the light intensified. Its glow was so powerful that it forced her to squint.

They come armoured against dread. The light surprises them. Quiet. Unhurried. Moving in slow beautiful waves along surfaces that are not quite walls and not quite air. Not the light of any sun or flame or manufactured source. Something older than all of those. Something that has been here since before light had a name. At the center of it, in the place where the light is most concentrated and most still, there is a book.

There was also a ladder leaned against one of the furthest walls to allow access to even the highest shelves of the library. The floors were cherry oak hardwood with a cra**ling fireplace in it in a warm mocha colour and the lightning was a bit dim, the type of lightning you would expect from an assortment of candles and not electricity. I also noticed in the far end of the library there was a large table with four big chairs all around it, looking excellent to do homework on.

“So I visited the library and got you more books. They are all happy endings so they will lift your mood.” Ophelia never noticed the stack of books until he held it out to her, the room was dimly lit and it was hard to make out anything if you didn’t know what you were looking for. Nevertheless, the flaming red of his eyes shone brightly in the dark. It seemed as though there was a torch burning behind his irises. Ophelia felt calmer, warmer even when she gazes at him. “Thank you,” she said after a long minute, accepting the books.

I muttered with a look of awe and admiration. It was like stepping into a fantasy library. The walls were soft-tone red with flecks of black and white. Shelves and shelves of books were neatly arranged in a circular manner. In the center was a little table with an unlit scented candle and two rows of beautiful bookmarks. Three chairs were alongside. There was also a coffee maker in the corner and a soft looking couch.