Poetry Pages Novels & Stories

⸻ 🌙 The Lost Pages The book slowly opened. 📖 ⸻ Its pages fluttered wildly. ⸻ Most were empty. ⸻ Destroyed. ⸻ Gone forever. ⸻ Yet one page remained intact. ⸻ One final page. ⸻ One hidden page. ⸻ A page nobody had ever seen before. ⸻ The page that existed before Memory Zero. ⸻ 😨 ⸻ 🌙 Before The First Question The page glowed softly. ✨ ⸻

It was open late, and the soft lighting inside looked like a scene from another world. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The scent of old pages and wood polish welcomed me like a friend. I didn’t even look at the titles at first I just wandered the aisles, brushing my fingers along the spines of hardcovers, letting the silence cradle me. I paused in the poetry section. There was something honest about poetry. No filler. No fluff. Just raw, unfiltered emotion. I picked up a slim volume by an author I didn’t recognize and flipped through the pages of the book. I wasn't going to read it. it had coffee brown pages and if I knew anything that book was going to get me wrecked and I wasn’t

I had just finished journal 3 when I stopped. “What am I doing?” I whispered and dropped the journal, “No, no, no. Please no. Stop.” I dropped to my knees and started to collect all the pages. In a frantic hurry, I picked up each page as if they were about to fade away. Pages had landed everywhere. On the bed, behind the cupboard, under the tables, even in the bathroom. I picked up 575 pages. Each journal was a book of 192 pages… which meant one page was missing.