Who Moved My Cheese Full Book Novels & Stories

Once inside, I place the mac and cheese onto my desk and removes one of the oven mitts before I begin searching the book shelf to the right of my desk. “What are you doing?” Getting a puzzled look from Sky, I ignore his questioning gaze. “You’ll see.” Finding what I am looking for, I pull out a book titled “Hidden Secrets” and smirk as the shelf slowly moves to the right side. Sky lets out a low whistle as I place on the mitt once again before picking up the pan and climbing the stairs in the hidden passage way. "Wow." Is Sky's only response.

(Continuing at the Valois river estate, with Day 30 closing in.) The bookshelf moved. Not the polite kind of movement, either. Not the gentle shiver of an old house settling. This was a slow scrape, deliberate, like someone was pushing a secret open from the other side. I stood there with a bowl of fruit in my hands, because apparently that was my chosen weapon today. The gap widened. A thin slice of darkness appeared. Cold air breathed out. Then a face slid into view.

This made the maidservants even more frightened. Right then, Felicia suddenly made a sound, picking up a small fragment from the ground and saying, "What is this?" The maidservant Annabel laughed, "Young Miss, this is the cheese Madam often eats." Moose cheese was highly esteemed. Not only did it invigorate the body, but it also nourished the blood and could calm the mind. Its taste was quite bitter, so typically, it was cooked with duck soup or cut into slices and consumed with tea. On this point, Felicia was well aware, so why was she asking? Everyone found it odd.

Even if I lifted her skirt a little, it did not really give me much. The discovery left me slightly disappointed, so I pinched her hip firmly. "Ah!" The sudden sensation nearly made Phoebe cry out. She quickly bit her lip and buried her face against my chest, swallowing the sound before it could escape. I was startled, too. After waiting a few minutes and seeing that nothing had happened, a bolder thought crept into my mind. With such a perfect opportunity, it would be a waste not to take advantage of it. My breathing grew heavier as my hand moved again, no longer holding back as I squeezed firmly.

Grabbing some cheese and lunch meat and tossed it to Chester. Thomas popped open the bottle of beer as he made his way toward his desk. He flopped into his chair in exhaustion as he scanned his desk. Thomas had books of magic, old and new. He had old charms from his grandmother and two major pieces that came from his mother’s collection that was set up in his bookcase.

It looked like it might fall at any moment. My curiosity grew. Slowly, I walked toward it, my footsteps careful and quiet. Reaching out, I grabbed the book and tried to pull it back into place. But instead of moving normally, the entire bookshelf shifted. A low rumbling sound echoed softly through the room as the shelf slowly began to move aside. My eyes widened in shock. A hidden passage. Behind the moving shelf, a dark opening slowly revealed itself. My heart started pounding again, louder this time. I knew it.

A small block of cheese she'd never tried before. The cashier rang up her items. "You're really branching out." "I'm reading a book for the third time." The cashier raised an eyebrow. "The same one?" "The same one." "Why?" Maya thought about it. The pages she'd turned. The sentences she'd read. The way she'd stopped trying to understand and just started reading. "Because it's mine now." The cashier handed her the bag. "That's the best reason." --- At 4, Maya sat in her flat.

The same shoulders I had watched on a porch for eleven days and had not seen, except at long distance through a café window, in two months. She was holding the book. I had known she would be holding the book. The book was the book I had moved from the floor to the arm of her chair on a Wednesday morning at four-eighteen AM in early November. The book was the one detail of her interior life I had handled directly. I had not, then, known what the gesture meant. I had simply moved the book because the book had been on the floor, and a book on the floor of a woman’s living room was a thing I was not going to leave for her to find on her way out.

“Nice to meet you.” I don’t wait for them to answer. I hurry through the kitchen, taking the entire basket of meats and cheese and head to my room. My pulse pounds as I climb the stairs, two at a time. I close the door to my bedroom, the old wood groaning against its hinges, and turn the lock. My fingers still tremble as I slide the parchment pages from under my shirt and set them on the desk along with the book. The candlelight flickers as if even it senses the gravity of what I’ve uncovered.

She tipped her head back and smiled at me. "Yes. What are you doing?" He closed the book and stood up, rolling up the sleeves of his pink sweater. "Meat and cheese sandwich. "Hmm, smelly. "Thanks." I squinted and was pleased to see that I'd managed to get a laugh out of Amelia.