Reading A Book In English Novels & Stories

’ Said Grandma while opening the book. ‘The dreams that are filled with gloom can be painful beyond one’s thinking.’ He mumbled lost in the thoughts. I envy the ones who dreams sweet... He was pulled away from his painful memories hearing his Grandma’s startle voice, “oh what is this...this is some another book.” ‘How can this be possible...I brought the one you asked me to.’ Adam. “I asked for English but the language here is French...oh now I understood son, this is the same book, look... name of the book is same.

-HER- After dinner, I come straight to my room and lock myself into it as usual. Since finals are next month, I decide to study or rather torture myself. I pick up the bag from the floor and throw it on my bed before climbing on it myself. I open the chain and hold the bag upside down until everything has fallen on the bed and the bag is totally empty. I chose my English book to start off with. As soon as I open the book and try to read the first sentence, my head starts to ache.

It looked almost ordinary, which somehow made it more unsettling. Jane leaned closer immediately, curiosity winning over caution like it always did with her. She released my hand and carefully lifted the book off my chest, settling it between her palms like it might bite if mishandled. “It is English,” she said after a quick scan. Then her brows pulled together. “But… this is strange.” Sammy shifted beside the bed, impatience tightening his shoulders. “Does it even matter who wrote it. Just read the bloody content.” Jane shot him a look but did not argue. She cleared her throat and started reading from the beginning, her voice steady, analytical, stripping emotion away as if that would make

Maria asked and Aurora looked at her. “Reading, what do you mean?” she asked back and Maria took the book from her and flipped through the pages. “Aurora, this isn't in English, nor is it in any language. This means nothing.”

She hugged Amber and headed downstairs. “Never, ever let her quit,” I whispered to Amber. “I won’t,” she replied. Jenny was in the living room, reading a book in some language I didn’t recognize. “What are you doing, Babe?” I asked. “Reading,” she grinned, knowing I wouldn’t let it go. “Well, until someone interrupts me.” “In a foreign language?” I teased, though it was obvious. “For you, yes. For me, no,” she played along. “Is it a good book?” I joined in.

Israel asked Devoe. "Because I can feel it". Devoe said and laughed. The wind calmed down and Eddie opened the book, and then everything in the book became visible to them. But it wasn't written in the English language so it was difficult for Eddie to read it. "Can't read this". Eddie said to them and Mrs. Angelina walked closer to him. "This is Greek". Mrs. Angelina said. " You understand Greek?". Eddie asked her firmly. " I actually can understand and interpret any language". Mrs. Angelina said to Eddie.

I flipped through the pages until a page got stuck under my thumb but that was not made me freeze, the words that were once unreadable by me where now clear as day. Somehow I found myself understanding every word and the strange language feeling like I’d known it my entire life. “The cold ones” I read, the words written with very bold letters, I scanned the rest of the book my eyes widening as I read most of it. “They are the one that have defied death and come back to life but not with a beating heart” I read out loud. Somehow the words translated itself in my head before coming out as English words from my heart, I don’t even understand how that was possible.

𝐸𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝐼'𝑑 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑒. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠.

Just glancing at the covers, Everly could see that most of the books were in German, but a couple of them immediately caught her attention because the titles were not in German. They were in French. Jack didn’t read French. But Everly did. Without even thinking about it, she picked up one of the books and quickly shoved it inside of her coat. She knew she was probably messing up again, but if Jack could forgive her for the situation with Slate, surely he could forgive her for borrowing a book without asking. After she had secured the book, she headed into the living room to wait by the door. A few moments later, Jack came down the stairs with his car keys in his hand. He said nothing, only w

damn it, then she’d start craving redundancy again. Her oversized white T-shirt huddled at her waist as she braced the book on her upraised legs, opened to the middle of the tale, where the bookmark was still set, and paid attention again to the pages. For many seconds, the letters appeared to be written in a language she did not understand. It's like it was made a very very long time ago. Then, a blink later, they were written in English again. It was very strange, and surely, and hopefully—a she-just-needs-sleep mistake on her part.