Sidebars In A Book Novels & Stories

The knowledge contained within the book was unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I knew that it would change my life forever. When I made to hold the book, I noticed its intricate designs etched into the cover. The patterns were so detailed and precise, it was as if they had been carved by hand. I ran my fingers over the designs, feeling the grooves and ridges beneath my fingertips. The book felt ancient, as if it had been around for centuries.

“Thank you for coming.” “I’m not here for you,” I say, too fast. “I’m here for the panel.” He glances at the sign. “Excellent taste.” Around us, people shuffle for seats, murmuring in that well-behaved bookstore way. He gestures toward the side aisle where there’s a small gap between travel essays and memoirs—its own shy hallway. “Walk with me?”

The sun is just above the tree line in the distance making its way into the library. The balcony wrapped around the three sides where the books rested and had two spiral staircases on either side. Below I could see a few tables and chairs and a couple leather sofas with a few throws draped over them. I wonder if there are books here that have answers to all my questions? My stomach caught me off guard as it growled. Ha, maybe I should investigate where the kitchen is first.

Giving up, I released I sigh and lifted my butt of the mattress and stretched my hands towards it, making sure to guide the books carefully to the edge before I grabbed them off the table and back to the mattress, my butt meeting the softness once more as I positioned the books in between my legs. I was clad in only a robe and that permitted me to sit comfortably in the posture I chose. The books were in different colors and not wasting time, I snatched up the first one at the top. The cover was in a white shade with a picture of a green plant on the front, some of its leaves stretching to the back cover. The words scribbled as the title read, “All you need to know about plants.” I frowned i

There was also the fear that I would have those erotic dreams while I was with him, but so far, they hadn't resurfaced, and I was glad for it. Sometimes, I'd stroll around the chambers, exploring every nook and cranny, and committing the details to memory. One particular point of interest was the bookshelves that lined the walls, stretching all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. They were filled with huge, ancient tomes that I was always curious about. Armed with a lamp, I picked one out one day and slowly began to flip through the yellowed pages, searching for pictures. Unfortunately, none of them did. I closed the book with a gentle thud, letting out a disgruntled breath.

Then Zara noticed something. "Adrian." He turned. "What?" She pointed at the bookshelf. "That book." He walked over. "What about it?" "It's upside down." Adrian stared at the shelf. Most of the books were old business journals. One was facing the wrong direction. He pulled it out. A small compartment opened behind it. Zara's mouth fell open. "Okay." Adrian looked at her. "Don't." She smiled. "I wasn't going to say anything." "You were."

A gentle smile from the man watching from the door. Saying nothing, she scanned the shelves. Lingered on the bone-white glow of the books. Some slender, hinting perhaps at quiet lives sharing easy stories half-told. Their slender spines dwarfed by their wider neighbors. Width, perhaps, promising more within their pages. Of louder lives teeming with breathless sagas and lessons well-learned.

It was silent now, aside from my footsteps, but I still could imagine just how magical it felt when the piano at the center of the room was being played. I kept searching the library; none of the titles stood out to me so I gave up and grabbed the book that was sitting in a cozy-looking chair. I plopped myself down and flipped through the first few pages. My eyebrows furrowed as I closed the book and reread the title. "The Origin of Shifters?" I murmured. This book should be thousands of pages long with obnoxiously dense material, but the one in my hands was maybe a hundred pages and full of hand-drawn pictures.