Waste Books Novels & Stories

Alfred clearly not fond of these poorly maintained Library, as he taking a look at the library, he ran through his fingers on top of the books that were in the shelves, but what he discovered were a thick layered of dust smearing his white gloves into dark. “[I know right?…it was a waste letting everything her just collecting dust…so…take all of it…the books the decoration..anything that were nailed to the wall…take all of it…especially the books….]”

Was he not going too overboard with this…? Dr. Weir continued, “Don’t think too much. These books are giving me a headache, and you don’t know how annoying it gets. I’ve known each of these books too well, and all the apprentices fought against one another just to get these books. Look, as their senior, it’ll seem biased no matter who I handed them to—this is a recipe for trouble. Also, the properties, companies, and factories are merely worth a penny or two. Is it worth it for them to kill one another?”

I sighed heavily and lifted papers together with my wet books in one hand. "Someone, apparently had fun with my stuff." Mrs. Brookes face held shock. The books in my hands weren't just wet, they were soaked that I couldn't even read any printed letters on it. I didn't really mind the first assault during the gym class since it didn't affect me whatsoever, but this pissed me off. It pissed me off because these books are expensive. It reminded me of how I worked three night shifts at three different fast food chains just to afford my medical books back in my day and for them to just ruin good books like these, they must think that money grows from trees.

To be honest, this is too exaggerate for him to do. Did he even think about the money he wasted if these books were stock for long waiting for them to be read? What if termites and live around here? It would be such a waste if these books would end up being destroyed by those pests rather than consumed by the minds of a true-blooded reader. At this moment, I can't help but feel sad while looking at the massive inventory of books inside this place. I wish I have the authority to read all of them.

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“Quiet doesn’t mean unbothered. Just good at hiding it.” We fell into silence. The only sound was distant thunder rumbling above ground. I wondered how long we’d be down here. Minutes stretched. My mind wandered to how close he was. How alone we were. “Tell me something,” I said finally. “Why’d you become a librarian? You don’t seem like the type who likes being stuck behind a desk all day.” Mr. Kane exhaled softly. “Books don’t talk back. They don’t expect small talk. I like the order. And the stories. What about you? History major with a focus on obscure trade? That’s not common.”

The black ink looked good in her milky skin, but she would rather it stayed hidden. She was not someone who dwelled too much on regrets and easily went with the flow of life. She had enough share of dramas and troubles in her life, and now that she was about to turn twenty-nine, she suddenly felt like she wasted a lot of her time. Twenty-nine, jeez! Time went by too fast, she thought.

It was industrial, bolted and so out of place. He didn’t say anything, he just keyed in a code, waited for a soft click and then the air hissed the way do. The lights inside flickered to life one after the one, revealing rows upon rows of books, bound in leather, ribbon, and velvet. Stacks of brittle notes, sealed drawers, scrolls in temperature-controlled glass. Nirvana feet took action before she could stop it and her eyes looked around as if trying to assimilate everything and commit it to memory.

it's okay" because, in fact, no one is obliged. Neither to understand nor to like. I'm talking about these crazy people, in love with books. Puts, it's a bunch of glued papers, sometimes sewn, folded, coated and encapsulated. Fragile, perishable material. Simple. Why do we like it so much? They are printed sheets. Paper, ink and a few words. Words, words. So many interesting things to do and you'll just stay there...reading? How crazy. Tedious. I see no sense. Waste of time. Boring. Useless. It's insane. There are people who collect. She thinks it's nice to organize it on a shelf to admire, to make a nice decoration, for visitors, for herself. For soul. Crazy people.

It was cluttered with books and materials of all sorts. Several opened books were scattered on the computer table, with red marks and notes scrawled across the pages. Someone had been studying very hard there. Nathan slowly walked over and flipped through the books. Psychology? He frowned as he took in the room. He saw a lot of books on the shelf that didn't belong to him. His gaze was locked on the titles. "Best Ways to Handle Toxic People". "The Key to Overcoming Nasty People" "Foundations of Psychology" Nathan's lips curled slightly as a smirk played on his face.