The following is a work of fiction
The Book Shop
There is a little old book shop in an alleyway that no one passes through in the downtown area. It was a very narrow pathway, only about six feet in width that got no sunlight at all times of the day. I don’t even think that it’s open for business. I lived in the city all my life and have never noticed this little street. It didn’t even have a name. I checked it on the map on my phone and even the internet didn’t recognise it.
So, one cold afternoon I decided to walk through the dark street and that’s when I discovered this bookshop. The sign was flipped to open but I didn’t see anyone inside. The door was unlocked though, so I turned the old brass knob and entered.
The interior was straight out of a fantasy novel, it was pretty amazing actually. I looked around for staff, but they were no where to be seen. It seemed small when I first walked in but eventually, it opened up to quite a spacious shop. There were rows and rows of bookshelves packed with beautifully bound books in fine leather and fabrics in various colours. I didn’t recognise any of the titles.
I pulled one out of the shelf. It didn’t have a title on the cover. It must cost a bit I thought as it was bound in a beautiful, expensive looking velvet fabric which had beautiful patina. I opened it. That’s when everything changed.
The pages were blank, but I could see the words as if it was projecting them directly into my mind. I kept on turning the pages. I was reading it but not with my eyes, my subconscious was binding with what ever this thing was. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing there reading the blue velvet book but when I finished the last page, I felt as though I woke up from a long sleep.
TO BE CONTINUED…