Old Yeller Novel Novels & Stories

Intrigued, I flip ahead several pages, seeing references to Henry’s Drive-In, The Skylark Diner, Yellow Cab, Paddy’s Place, The Commons Trailer Park on Bassler Road . I close the journal and again examine its plain, black leather-bound cover. Stories about Clifton Heights? Real stories? Or someone trying their hand at fiction? Either possibility fascinates me. Especially because I’m ready to begin a classic rite of passage for all small-town authors: the ubiquitous “coming of age novel which is a thinly veiled account of the author’s childhood.” Whomever this journal belongs to, it’s not lost on me how much inspiration these stories could provide, possibly kick-starting my own childhood reco

That thought was sending chills down my spine! As I was turning the pages to get a quick glance at what was there in it, I was getting an earthy smell from the yellow spots on the papers that were telling me clearly that it must have been at least a decade ago when it must have been written. Some pages were even tattered, and most of them had deckle edges. Despite the book being old, there was beauty in it because it had emotions and wishes listed in it which were handwritten as well.

Zelena. I opened my eyes slowly. The sun was already shining brightly through the window. I reached my arm behind me and felt around the bed. I sat up quickly and looked around the room. Gunner wasn’t there. I took a deep breath and yawned stretching my arms out. Wait, my chest didn’t hurt. I twisted my back from side to side waving my arms in the air, my ribs didn’t hurt at all. I got up from the bed and walked around the room, still no pain. I noticed the bookshelf and decided to take a look. There were so many books, some with older worn covers and others newer looking. I picked up a small red book and read the cover ‘A Lycanthropy Reader; WEREWOLVES IN WESTERN CULTURE’. I flicked through