The Woman Book Mga Nobela at Kwento

“She’s the Goddess of Wisdom. When she finds what she’s looking for, she’ll come out.” ____________________________________________________________________ “No, it’s not here either. Where could it possibly be?” A woman spoke to herself as she tossed the book she was holding onto the floor in exasperation. The discarded book did not land with a thud like it was supposed to- rather it landed on another book. On the floor, several books littered the ground. Leaving no space for one to walk. Some of the books were opened with footprints all over them. The luckier once had the blessed fate of landing on the floor closed and protected.

She had wondered privately if the stink of the city alone could coerce her to follow her husband’s command to stay indoors, though she considered it highly unlikely. As she had paused to examine the books lining the shelves, the faint beginnings of her good humour had fled. The titles on the spines leered down at her, the jagged lettering contriving rotten faces of their own. Woman and Sin, they read. The Keeping of a Good Wife. Accomplishments Acceptable in the Female Gender.

And as we ate, we watched one of Lucy's cartoons again. I'm starting to like these crazy animations. Lucy fell asleep and I took her to her bedroom. I headed back to Danica’s bedroom to check on her one more time. I leaned against the door seeing her knee-deep in the book she was reading. I took a peek at the cover to see what kept her so entranced, and I smiled when I saw it. Man into Woman, written by Lili Elbe and published posthumously in 1933. I watched her as she read the book.

“Your majesty, you are hear to learn your purpose and I am hear to make sure you understand what needs to be done.” I looked deep into the woman’s glittering eyes and gasped. “You…you are the book aren’t you, you’re a living deity of a grimoire aren’t you?” My had flew to my mouth in disbelief, this couldn’t be possible but the glittering of her eyes resembled the elegant gemstones that line the front and back of the spell book. “Yes, I am exactly that.” The majestic woman replied. “I am hear to give you the answers that you seek, you have finally realized who you are, giving you access to me and my secrets.”

My hatred of The nonsense Concept-of-Women's-Happiness-bullshit sister Elise taught me once, two years ago. I remember she said, "--at the end, a woman's ultimate happiness was to fulfill her destiny. To do so, thou shalt be modest but charming, full of smiles, calm in her nature, smooth in her speech, forgiving, loyal and devoted to thy husband, never rejects the will of thy husband and thy attitude towards his wives has no prejudice; sincere and full of understanding--,"

Most importantly, most foundationally, irreducibly — with herself. The woman who had been a guest in her own life and was now its undisputed primary inhabitant. Who had found herself in the fire. Who had written herself down. Who had put her name on it. She thought about the woman at four in the morning who had not been able to put the book down. About the woman who had called her sister. About the woman who had called the lawyer. About the hundreds of women who had written today and the thousands who would write in the weeks and months to come as the book found its way to the people who needed it.

After all, Raven didn't want to give away too much information about her interests. Raven was taken aback when the woman revealed the title of the book she was searching for, "The Night Watcher and the Vampire?" the woman smirked. "I pulled it out of the shelf. I don't know who worked here last night, but that book doesn't belong in the shelves..." she added. Raven couldn't believe her ears. How dare this woman insult her in such an indirect way? Who was she to judge Raven's taste in literature? Feeling insulted, Raven spat out a response, "Excuse me?" The shock in her voice was palpable.

Seventy-seven days. That was how long Marcus Harper had gone without saying a single word to his wife. No argument. No explanation. Just silence. And the worst part? Lila Harper still loved him. Because Marcus wasn't always cruel. He was the husband everyone wished they had—the flowers, expensive dates, gentle touches, and the way he looked at Lila like she was the only woman in the world. The perfect marriage! She was envied. But she knew what happened when the doors closed. For ten years, she kept forgiving Marcus, waiting for his silence to end and believing the loving man she knew was the real him. Until the seventy-seventh day. One bank statement changes every

“For training.” I smiled despite myself. “Tell her thank you.” The maid hesitated. “Actually…” “What?” “She said not to thank her.” I frowned. “Why?” “You’ll understand later.” Strange… very strange. That evening, I wandered into the library again, this time not to read but because I wanted silence. I returned yesterday’s books. The librarian smiled nervously. “I found something else you may enjoy.” He placed a slim volume before me. It wasn’t about kings or bloodlines or prophecies. Its title read; Forgotten Women of the First Kingdom.

The woman's eyes followed the man out before a low hiss escaped her lips, she faced the crowd again, her lips mouthing the same words she had asked before. “Who is Reyna? I want to know who the heck the girl that thinks she’s good enough for my family is.” She shouted. Reyna did not need to add two plus two together to know who the woman in front of her was. The same people Niko had earned her about. “Do you know her?” She heard Larissa mouth beside her. “My fake boyfriend's grandmother.” She mouthed. “Ohh! That’s some feisty woman there.” Larissa raised her brows as her lips clasped together.