The Catcher In The Rye Online Reading Novels & Stories

A classy Postmaster, a struggling author and an ambitious district attorney. She read the edited text out loud several times, then abruptly stopped in mid-sentence when she realized what she had written wasn’t just the opening line of a joke. She tossed the notebook to the floor and grabbed her computer case. Rachel hurriedly unzipped the nylon clasp, unstrapped the lap-top, switched it on and raised the screen. As the long white limousine turned onto the New York State Thruway, she opened a new file and began typing: First Class Male

Zayden As soon as I got done showering, I hurried and dried my body and hair, put on my clothes and walk out the door. I see my little mate sitting in the chair I left her in but with a book in hand. I slowly walk over to her and lean on the back of the chair. I notice she is reading my favorite book. Catch 22 by Joseph Heller. “How do you like it so far?” I startled her apparently as she jumped as soon as I asked the question.

When the sun the up? Oh, well. I throw my phone carefully on the blue pillow on the bed. I haven’t read in a bit, so I take one of my favorite books. Though I have read it numerous times, it’s an epic book. I run my finger on the letters on the cover page of the book. The letters reads: THE OUTSIDERS. I sigh satisfyingly and begin my book. In a minute, I’m already lost in the world of ‘Ponyboy Curtis’, the book’s narrator.

He didn’t realize someone came in. A tall guy came to the store, leaving a strong aura of a rich kid. His stern face noticed a small guy reading a book near the entrance covering his face with an old book. Leaving him alone as he was, that tall guy went on his own on the innermost bookshelves to find some interesting books. Finally, Ryan completed the book. The last chapter made him sad, but it had a beautiful ending. People should read it again and again. He snapped closed the book, leaving it on the table where he sat. He went to find a new book to read.

I can’t remember turning it on. I bend down to pick up the book. It was his favorite, ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ by J. D. Salinger. He took it everywhere he went. The day I had to collect his things at the hospital, it was just this and an old jacket that once belonged to my dad. The book, old and worn, has scribbled handwriting inside, like it was written in a hurry before the thought was lost. I close my eyes and open it on a random page. I read the first quote I can find:

Hmmn, seems he likes this book a lot. I stopped and turned back to him curiously. “Can I have the book please? I’ll tell you where you can d******d the P*F online. You can read it anytime you like.” He said. I scoffed. Really? “Maybe you should take your own advice.” “No, I can’t read a book online. I don’t know. Feels… feels like…” he paused briefly taking his eyes off me. “Feels like I’m not getting the whole package or so.

“Can’t have a notebook without a pen.” “Will you read a chapter to me?” Caitlyn asked. “Before you go to see the others?” “Of course,” Chloe said, reaching for the book. “Now lie back and get comfortable.” Chloe cleared her throat dramatically and then opened the cover of the book. “Harriet the Spy. Chapter one. ‘Harriet was trying to explain to Sport how to play Town.’”

They were all adjusted alphabetically. He then randomly picked a book. ‘If I had your Face – By Frances Cha’ He read the title. He opened the book. On the first page, there was her name and a date written. The date when she either got the book or started reading it. He flipped through the pages. She had underlined some context. Marked notes somewhere. Scribbled replies to some lines. He laughed to himself. There was this line she had highlighted, “In New York, you can talk to anyone about anything at any time and have a conversation so long you'll fall a little in love with that person, and then never see them again.”

the letter read. “I spent four hours today arguing with a man who smelled like old goat cheese and gunpowder. I found myself wondering if you were still reading about the Medicis, or if you’d moved on to something less bloody. I found a bookstore in a small village today. It was tucked between a bakery and a butcher shop. I saw a first edition of 'The Shining' and thought of you. Stay in the sun, Little Bird.” I laughed again, a sound that I had not genuinely made in a while .

I had no clue what we would do once we left here and had to return to our lives, but I tried not to think past today. The word scramble game I had played on my iPad for months didn't hold my attention, yet I forced myself to stare at the screen until my eyes closed with boredom. I set the device in my lap and rolled my head to stare at the freckles that marked his face and the smile that tugged at his lips when he realized I was watching him. "What are you reading?" "The Kite Runner." He stuck his finger between the pages and flipped the book over so I could see the cover.