Novel & Cerita Rosewater Bookstore

"Come with me, and I will show you." With much reluctance, Esper took the tiny hand and followed. As they walked, the white room slowly faded into a dark void with only an illuminated crystal walkway as their path. Off in the distance, Esper could see a floating crystalline structure covered in overgrown blue rose bushes. When she reached the entrance of the rose garden, Esper halted in her steps. Lying in the center atop a bed of blue roses was a woman with overflowing silver hair, moon white skin, elongated ears, and slanted eyes. "Who is that?"

Here's to alcohol, the rose-colored glasses of life. ✾ The place behind the counter looked very much like it really belongs to Verdant. There were various shelves full of jars that had different colored liquids inside. Some had roots, leaves, as well as some things that I didn’t bother identifying. For some reason, my wolf had told me it was better that I didn’t know. There were barrels on either side of the counter, their spigot dripping a sticky brown liquid whose stench made me crinkle my nose. Furrowing my brows, I tried leaning over the counter, checking if there was something that I could at least give Auster, maybe even some water.

Beads of sweat clamped on my forehead and palms and everything became blurry. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Roselle" she beamed extending her small hand. "Roselle??" I asked, sinking my fingers into my flesh. "Yes." "What's your full name please??" I questioned, holding my breath. "Are you ok sir??" She asked taking in my disheveled form. "I asked you a question please" I said digging my boots into the plush carpet. "Its Jackson" she said staring at me confusingly. "Roselle Jackson."

Though the writings were a cursive one and all written in ink, all she could feel was defeat when she could hardly understand what each book was about. Only the picture in the books seems interesting enough with its colour schemes and story saying that made it worthwhile. As she walks past the shelves, walking down the red-carpeted floor that just fits the marble wall interior, Rosa found herself at the end of the room with a long, rectangular marble table. Rolls of paper, documents and books, huge books, old books, opened and covered with dust.

Sighing, I walk back towards the path I came, heading towards the bookstore that I usually go to incase I have any books I want to purchase. ''Good morning, Rose.'' Jack, the owner here, greets me. He's almost in his seventies but he's a very hardworking man. Besides, whenever I tell him to go home and get some rest or slack off, he would say that he doesn't have anything else to do; this bookstore is where he wants to spend his time. I smile at him, heading towards his direction, ''Good morning, Jack. How are you?'' He lets out a breathy laugh, ''I'm good, how are you? It's been awhile since I last saw you and your boyfriend. Are you two doing well?'' The sky blue eyes he have never fail to

"Come on, now." They continued walking down the street until they got to an old bookstore. It was small and rustic, and old place that was hardly standing on its own now but it was Rosie's favourite in Paris. She could spend all day scanning the shelves or sitting outside on the little outdoor dining tables with a book in hand. Rosie sat down at one of the tables while Anthony walked across the street to get them some coffee. She opened a new book that had been propped underneath her arm, falling into whatever new universe this book would consume her into.

Frowning, he went to pull the door shut and it hit something, a thud sounding towards the bottom of the door. Chris lowered his gaze to the floor, and blinked in surprise, stuck between the door and the wall, was a little red rose in a tiny but elegant glass shaped like a crescent moon, the inside hardened with…resin? He picked it up, and saw the tiny thorns surrounding the rose inside. Blinking, he curled his fingers around the item and jogged lightly down the stairs, two at a time. __________________

"You two heading to Rosa's place?" "We are," Daniel confirms. "Tell her Jim says hello. And that I'll beat her at cards next week." Susan laughs. "He won't. He never does." We continue down the street, and I realize I'm smiling. Actually smiling without forcing it. The coffee shop—Rosa's Corner—sits on the corner of Maple and Third. The bell chimes when we enter, and the smell of fresh coffee and pastries wraps around us. "Amelia! Daniel!" Rosa calls from behind the counter. She's in her fifties, with gray-streaked hair pulled into a messy bun and flour on her apron. "The usual?"

She ended up getting him a nice vintage shirt later on but it wasn't as expensive as the complete set of jewelry he he'd gotten her. Rose took her purse and made made her way out of the room. She locked the door, because she and Tiffany both had keys to their dorm room. She greeted and chatted with a couple of friends then made her way to a coffee shop to get breakfast. She went to the biggest coffee shop in town. She could see the cheerful and brilliant lighting of the shop as she walked across the vast parking lot. There were tables outside the shop each with a brown vintage style umbrella. This particular coffee shop is not a cafe, it was a coffee shop literally. They sold the finest coff

Raymond was pouring coffee, humming something soft under his breath, shirtless as usual, entirely too distracting. "What’s this?" I asked. He glanced over. "Read it." I unfolded the note. > Dear lovers, There is a bookstore in the village. Not just any bookstore. One where people leave pieces of themselves behind. Pages of poetry. Notes. Secrets. The owner lets you browse, read, and write your own. Consider it today’s adventure. —Mama Elsie I smiled so hard it hurt, “you planned this also right?” He nodded. --- Later That Morning The drive down was quiet.