This Old Man Book Novels & Stories

“Please? Pretty please?” I sighed and finally relented, although my fingers were already black from handling this seemingly ancient book. I flipped to the next page, where the story immediately began. There was no cover page, and no title to be seen anywhere. “Once upon a time,” I read, deciding that it wasn’t worth arguing about and that I could make something up if the story got strange, “there was an old man who lived all by himself.” A strange premise for a kids’ book, I thought to myself, but kept reading.

“Penny’s going to make you a few things. And then we’ll find out whether you understand what you’ve been asking us to sell, or whether you read a book and got brave.” The old man works fast. That’s the thing that prickles at me, the speed of it, the way a man who looks a hundred years old moves like water. A pinch from this drawer, a measure from that jar, his back half to us so I can’t see his hands clearly, and even craning I can’t track what goes where. It’s deliberately too quick.

“What?” Again the old man erupted in low laughter. “Don’t worry your secret’s safe with me. Good luck with Caius, though.” He whistled, shaking his head then turned serious. “The book was given to me by a deabru I say around the mid fifteen hundreds, though don’t quote me. My mind is a bit fuzzy. He was a strange bird, not quite like the other deabru. This one smelled funny. I remember that. He said he’d stolen it from a great witch, her name was Lily or Laura, I can’t remember, just that it started with an L.” Laina. “What do you mean he smelled funny?”

She took a deep breath before gathering her senses to swallow whatever the truth he was going to open up in front of her. The old man grabbed one of the books behind him and opened the page sliding it in front of Alice who frowned not understanding even a single word written on the book. It was the language used by the wolves in ancient times, she squinted her eyes trying to understand even a single syllabus but it was impossible for her to read after all only those who had the years long study experience with this language could read it. "This book is the answer to your every question." He mumbled pointing at the page he laid in front of the confused woman, Alice still didn't understand him

came Beta Calian's voice. "Can't an old hag read in peace anymore?" said the old woman without giving him the honor of looking up from her book. "I just wonder why you should decide to read here. I thought that you preferred to buy books from the bookstore or whenever," the man said. He looked down at them with disgust. "Besides, who reads in this time and age?"

the girl observed, knowing that while everyone had their sports preferences, they shared a great passion for literature. "No way!" The older man doubted. "Young people are interested in the old and good literature still?" "My grandfather has a large library at home, and fortunately, he made my cousin and me read several classic works, and I ended up liking some of them a lot. I've read Great Expectations more than once... and also Oliver Twist. I didn't like Bleak House that much, not to say that I love everything I've read from him, but, on the other hand, probably The Old Curiosity Shop is the book I've read the most times in my life."

His condition was worsening with every word he spoke, his eyes were getting heavier with no trace of light in them. With his remaining energy he struggled to explain something to them. Putting together every ounce of energy he had left words tumbled out of his mouth. "The-the sea of dead...is...merciless to its travellers. You will only have one day to find the book...and...come out of the desert safely." "With every moment that...that passes, the more traces of your existence will...disappear," with these last words, the old man closed his eyes forever. Witnessing the tragic death of a great scholar who once happened to be well known and admired by many people for a long time, somewhere sho

When she went back to her office, she sighed one more time. Ava realized that money is really a disease. A sickness that latches onto people and makes them feel like they are better than anyone. She used to be like that. Maybe not as much as that woman is, but she used to think that she's always better than everybody else. -Flashback- Ava was walking her way to her favorite bookshop. Their car was parked not too far away, so she decided to go alone. She's looking for a new book to buy.