Novel & Cerita Mr. Penumbra's 24-hour Bookstore

— I would stay to live here. The muted yellowish light emanating from numerous pendant lamps and floor lamps near the benches facing the shelves, both on the first and second floors, created a special atmosphere in the store. “As you can see, this is primarily a bookstore, but with a small cafe and a limited assortment of art supplies,” Yuna shook her head towards the corner with a glass display case and a free-standing double-door cabinet. — There is the bare minimum: some paints, pencils, crayons and brushes. The paper, by the way, sucks, but I will soon take up this business as soon as profit allows.

“What product. Who intercepted it. How.” There was a pause. Then a voice replied, crisp, loyal, mine. “You’ll have it at four.” “Good. Libreria Fioretta.” “Understood.” I hung up. Slipped back into my cardigan. And smiled at my reflection like a girl who had just served coffee. ~~~~~ 4:00 PM The bell above the bookstore door jingled. He entered like any other customer. Glasses. A soft scarf. A harmless paperback in hand. I didn’t greet him.

Those were good times. Pushing open the library door, I was enveloped by the familiar scents of paper and ink. The sleek, modern shelves, packed with books of every genre, rose majestically to the ceiling, creating a sea of literary treasures. Every book had been handpicked by me, each one a reflection of my eclectic tastes. I navigated the narrow aisles, my fingers trailing over the spines of the books until they paused in front of a shelf filled with classic novels. With a practiced motion, I pulled a row of books off a shelf, revealing a small, discreet panel. I pressed my thumb against the cool surface, and the panel slid open with a soft click releasing a whisper of secrets.

The display came alive with a most disorientating overhead view of the library outside Athens. It was eerie. Lara gaped, totally dazed by the sight of Christophe striding through the door, pouring himself a large drink, and then throwing himself on the sofa. “Oh, you want to know what we’re watching? Well… I’ll start by saying this: every reception room and every corridor in my father’s houses are protected by twenty-four-hour surveillance equipment. Only the bedrooms and the bathrooms are off-limits,” Christophe informed her. “You can see the date and the exact time displayed at the foot of every frame.”

All of the stocks holder of their company are slowly pulling out their shares one by one and Simon don't even have a choice but to let them to because he can't control their decisions at all. Simon was standing in front of their company while taking his last glance at it before the bank took it away. His tears fall down from his eyes and wipes it immediately while he was in his way to his car. When he reaches where he park his car, he can't seem to find it. He look around trying to check if he got a wrong parking but he can't really find his car. And then a lady suddenly approached him. "Is it your car? The one that was park here earlier?" She asked pointing at the space emptied in the parki

He hangs up, and I look at the dead man on the floor. I turn my back and get into the car. - To the headquarters. The car stops on a busy street full of Macdonals and Starbucks stores, but I enter the old bookstore that no one gives a fuck about. The last book that the bookstore sold must have been in 1990, but all the shelves were full of old books without a speck of dust. I look at the man behind the counter, who greets me with a nod. Moving between the shelves, I reach the end of the hall. A bookshelf slides out of its place as if by magic, and I open the steel door that becomes visible using a retina reader and a code.

Mia’s POV The sky had long darkened, and the golden hues of dusk gave way to deep indigo. Inside the bookstore, the soft lamplight cast a cozy, flickering glow on the wood-paneled walls. It smelled like old paper, fresh espresso, and cinnamon muffins—the comforting signature scent of Chapters & Coffee. Marco.

Encounters with people seemed a hurdle. The closing time of the bookstore was 7 pm, yet, he goes home near midnight occasionally due to forgetting the time. Books are fortes that take you off the world you know, off your hurdle to a place of adventure and discoveries of imaginary possessions; pals. Getting home, he unfurled his door and plunged the new book he picked from the bookstore onto his table. 'The Moonlight Slave' by Shadows. After plopping the book, he did his routine. Showering, eating leftovers, and hopping into his mattress with the book in his hand. He comfortably sighed and positioned the book on top of him.

His brows came together as she continued to think it over, so he redirected his attention to getting home and finishing his job. ---------- He walked into the bookstore after hours, surprised that the door was still unlocked. The lights were dim inside, and no customer appeared in sight. Instead, he made his way to the back corner by the table and couch where he found Amira sitting, her face in an old book. She wore jeans that fit her thighs, and a button up white blouse. Her hair was draped over her left shoulder as her eyes scanned over the texts.

And so, I found Kevin – human, kind, and seemingly understanding of my unique situation. A glance at my watch sends a jolt of panic through me. 9:10 PM. The party will be in full swing by now, and I'm still here, surrounded by the quiet whispers of countless books. I rush through the rest of my closing routine, my movements a blur as I count the till, shut down the computer, and flick off the lights. My heart races as I finally lock the front door, the cool night air a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth of the bookstore.