روايات وقصص ضمن Skimming Through A Book

You're among the very few who managed to scratch past the surface, and the first who did that in a short amount of time. Though you might still be an old weirdo, you're a cool one at least. Emma. *** Thank you for reading my book, again. Note that this book isn't proofread. This will be done after completion of the book. Please comment and leave reviews. Stay awesome.

This was going to be a long session. * * * “You're reading too hard,” I say, reaching over to drag the book closer. “Stop trying to memorize every word. Read like you're listening to someone talk to you.” “That sounds easy.” “It’s not. But it’s how people who read a lot remember things. Here—” I flip a page. “Skim the first two paragraphs, then tell me what it’s about in two lines.” She hesitates, then bends over the page. Her lips move silently as she scans. Her brows pinch together, then smooth. A few seconds later, she looks up.

Turn back. Then the understanding. The fortnight was not there. Not scribbled over. Not inked out. Not torn, either, in the way a hurried person tears, leaving a ragged shoulder of paper standing proud of the spine. Cut. Somebody had taken a blade to that book and removed the pages one at a time, close in against the binding, and had done it well enough that the book still closed flat. You had to open it wide and hold it toward the window to see the stubs at all.

What a spiteful little man, she thought. Caitlin wasted no time. She cracked open the first book, an old tome from the nineteenth century, thick, leather-bound. As she turned its frail and brittle pages, she went into speed-reading mode, reading the pages faster than she ever had in her life, looking for keywords, places, locations, ideas. Anything that would lead to another book, another idea, another lead, another clue. Anything with substance.

His muscles pull tightly against the button up shirt he's wearing and I catch myself staring at him. I look away back to the book Infront of me sliding my glasses back into place. I run my eyes over the page I have flipped open and begin turning them. I've studied this way my entire life. I don't actually have to read the material to know it I just have to look at it. It's filed away in my brain for a rainy day. "There's no way you're actually reading that fast." He says looking over at the book as I continue to flip page after page only pausing long enough to rack my eyes over the content.

I bet that had to be a tremendous shock for her. I skim through the pages, finding nothing before moving to the next book, finding it equally uninteresting and completely foreign as I move from one to the next until I find one that’s binding is cracked and almost puffy in appearance. I tip it to the side, trying to discern if there is something inside the binding or if it is just naturally like that. A small press to the center of the spine and I hear the crackle of paper and I know I’ve found something.

I smirked, shaking my head as I randomly picked a book from the shelf and gave it to her. She chuckled softly as she read the title. “Think, Fast and Slow. Really, Sky?” She studied the cover and flickered her eyes on me. “You haven’t read this yet.” “I did, once,” I answered. “It’s a good book.” She scanned the pages, reading them as if she was some kind of computer. After a few pages, she looked up and took a deep breath. “I’m keeping this,” She placed the book on the table. “I’m done thinking. Now, let’s do it fast.”

He would be totally shocked if Hans finished reading those 8 books in just a short amount of time. Hans put down the book he was currently reading and confusedly asked, “Which books are you referring to?” Anthony pointed at the 8 books piled in shock. But what surprised him, even more, is when Hans nodded. He really finished reading those books. That’s ridiculous! “What?!… How did you read those books? By just scanning them?” Those books weren’t thin in the first place. Each book consists of 400 pages or more. Hans reading it at a fast pace is like how a photocopier works. It’s very fast.

𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 I was reading a book when I realized I hadn’t understood a single line. The book remained open on my lap. My eyes moved across the words, line after line, but nothing made sense. It was as if I was only passing over them… without truly absorbing anything. I let out a soft sigh. I turned the page anyway. Automatic. The room was silent.

Heat surged through me, blooming in my chest and creeping slowly into my cheeks as I shifted in my seat, subtly clenching my thighs together. A low buzz vibrated through my body, ignited by the words in the book I held. The tension in my limbs made it nearly impossible to sit still. Every page felt like fire, and I devoured the words faster than I ever had before. It was like my eyes were starved, and the book was a feast—rich, decadent, indulgent.