Writing Prompt

The Tomcat Murr drifting theough leaflets Like they might actually mean something

But they never do The only real light you can depend on is from Your cat

The way she keeps forgiving you for spilling her water and not changing the litter fast enough

I had 2 lemons in the fridge when i left They weren’t Meyer lemons Their scent sealed in wax

Were they only for painting? what does the world see What do i see that is different

An alien, avian, a bit of a high-flyer I wonder if Hank has a little somewhere I am my own

i miss the grass and insects especially i wonder what is happening with my RNA, am I a Henrietta somehow?

really we just all lie awake alone with our free cable and clean sheets and sushi dinners waiting for free coffee

the chance to emerge from our prisons or escape rooms sense at least the presence of another

somehow make these single-serving rooms into a semblance of a home we add our scent to the collective

the last time i lived in a hotel i had divorced this time somehow i inch towards Bethlehem

with cat and bell and backpack

Hannah, an artist struggling with inspiration, wandered through the aisles, her fingers brushing over the spines of countless volumes. Her grandmother had once spoken of a book called "The Forgotten Truth," claiming it held the key to unlocking one's true potential. With her creativity dwindling, Hannah clung to the hope that this elusive book could reignite her passion.

Mark, on the other hand, was a historian with a crumbling belief in his life's work. He had stumbled upon a mention of "The Forgotten Truth" in an old journal, suggesting it contained profound insights into the human spirit. Desperate to rekindle his faith in his research, he had traveled far and wide, finally landing in Whispering Pages.

The bookstore was a labyrinth of shelves, each turn leading to more hidden corners. Hannah and Mark found themselves in a secluded section filled with leather-bound tomes, their eyes scanning titles with fervent hope. It was here that fate decided to intertwine their paths.

Hannah reached for a worn, gold-lettered book on the top shelf just as Mark's hand brushed against it. Their fingers collided, and they both recoiled in surprise.

"I'm sorry," Mark said, stepping back. "I didn't see you there."

"It's okay," Hannah replied, offering a shy smile. "I was just... looking for something."

"Me too," Mark said, his curiosity piqued. "An old book called 'The Forgotten Truth.'"

Hannah's eyes widened. "That's the same book I'm looking for!"

They exchanged astonished glances before laughing at the serendipity. "Maybe we can look together," Mark suggested. Hannah agreed, and they began their search in earnest, side by side.

As they scoured the shelves, they shared their stories, discovering how their lives had been guided by whispers of this mysterious book. Hours passed, the sun setting outside, casting long shadows through the shop's windows. They found themselves in a dimly lit corner, surrounded by ancient volumes that seemed to pulse with secrets.

Finally, tucked away behind a row of dusty encyclopedias, Mark spotted a leather-bound book with faded gold lettering: "The Forgotten Truth." He pulled it out carefully, and they both held their breath as he opened it.

Oh sorry Didn’t mean to Bump into you I see her green eyes

Oh my god I love that book Malice Yeah it’s means a lot

It helped me Figure myself out Really You too?

Maybe we should meet up At an old cafe And hold hands

And share orders And sweets Take a sip Of my coffee

And walk down The aisle In white with People sobbing

A wave of nausea bubbles up in Cora’s stomach, a new sensation she still hasn’t grown used to. Her doctors assure her that this is normal, so Cora promises herself she won’t overthink the changes overtaking her body. Yet she can’t help but grip at her flat belly with each twitch.

Her task today is simple – buy a children’s book. A book her own mother read to her throughout her childhood. A story about a mouse finding the true meaning of happiness. A story Cora implemented into her psyche from a young age. A story, that she believes, taught her life’s greatest lesson. She wants to give her own baby a future just as bright.

The bookstore is bustling for a weekday. Mothers push strollers around, coffee drinks seated in the designated cup holders, while their children attempt to grab at anything within their reach, screaming when the mother takes it away. It’s a reality Cora cannot wait for.

A middle-aged woman near the register catches Cora’s attention. The woman is busy talking to an employee, who points her into the same vague direction that Cora is headed toward. It makes no sense, but Cora finds herself increasing her speed every so slightly. She reaches the back wall, relieved to see she’s the only one here.

She scans all of the spines of the books, relieved when she finds the mouse book on the top shelf. It’s out of her reach, so she looks around to find a step stool. A crashing sound behind her startles her and she turns to see the woman from earlier with her arm outstretched, the mouse book on the ground, its covers splayed out like a bird.

The woman sheepishly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry,” she says. “It slipped at the last second.”

Cora bends to grab the book, a familiar warmth spreading through her as she stares at the familiar little mouse. “I was actually just looking for a stepstool, so you’ve saved me a trip.” Cora is too focused on the colorful pages of the book to realize the woman has not moved.

The woman is staring from her spot at the pages, a painful look etched on her face. Cora takes a step closer to her, wondering if she’ll take a step towards her. If this were a romance novel, this would be the scene that the two characters’ lives are forever changed by the other.

But this is not a romance novel. These are two women sharing the same admiration for a child’s book.

“I love his overalls,” the woman says, gesturing to the page. Cora nods in response, flipping to the next page. “This was my favorite page growing up.” The page shows the mouse is nestled warm in his bed, under the glow of a full moon.

“That’s Charlie’s favorite page too.” The woman pauses, the words suddenly lodged in her throat. In the silence, Cora realizes why the woman hasn’t moved.

“Charlie?” She asks. She looks for a boy, with sandy blond hair that matches this woman’s. There is no boy. It’s just the two of them.

“My son. He loved this story.” It doesn’t slip past Cora that this woman’s sentence is spoken in past tense. Familiar with loss herself, Cora asks the most basic question there is: “how did he die?”

A pause. “Cancer.” Another pause. “He would’ve been six this year.” Her words begin to tumble out now. “I used to bring him here once a week. It was our special time together.” Her arms are outstretched and instinctively Cora passes her the book. Her fingers are worn and delicate. Much like the rest of her. “This was the last book we ever read together. I’ve been wanting to find this book so that I can read it to him again.”

Realizing that Cora was holding the book first, the woman hands it back to her, scanning for an identical copy for herself.

Cora gestures behind them. “The guy at the desk said this was the last copy.” Silence follows. Feeling the need to defend her desire to be the one to purchase this book, Cora blurts out the first thought that comes to mind.

“I’m pregnant.” Her arms instinctively wrap around her stomach, and the woman looks at her.

Pain recedes from the woman’s face for a moment, replaced by genuine happiness. “Congratulations. Is this your first?”

Cora nods.

The woman makes a joke about reading to a baby while pregnant will increase their likelihood of becoming a bookworm. The joke isn’t malicious in itself, but quite sweet. Yet Cora feels nauseated.

Silence passes between them and they each stare absentmindedly into the crowds of people browsing the shelves. Cora’s desire to purchase the book is slipping rapidly. She doesn’t fight it.

While Cora has a whole new world blossoming inside her, standing before her is a woman who has experienced all she will ever have with her child. Cora has spent weeks fantasizing about all of the new experiences awaiting her. Night after night, playing through various scenarios of what her life will be like in a year. And yet, she’s never fantasized about the pain of losing her precious baby.

She doesn’t want to imagine it. Not now, not ever.

Pushing the book back into the woman’s arms, Cora grabs a random book off the shelf. It has a frog on the cover and Cora pretends to smile even more broadly at this book’s cover.

“I’m going to buy this one.” She laughs, flipping through its pages. “I like it more than the mouse.”

It’s a lie. Both women know it is. But it’s safer than the alternative. This woman that Cora has never met before has already had the unfathomable happen to her. “You should buy it,” she says. “For Charlie.”

When both women reach the register, the same employee scans the books. He does so without any enthusiasm, quickly returning his attention to his phone as they make their way to the exit. He pays no attention to either woman.

Cora is about to push through the front door when the woman stops her.

“What’s your name?”

“Cora.”

The woman puts a hand on her chest. “I’m Beth.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” they say almost in sync with each other.

Both women smile at each other, before returning to silence. Cora isn’t sure if she just should leave, or if Beth has anything more to say.

Minutes pass.

Beth steps beside Cora, grabbing her hand. She gives it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Cora. From both me and Charlie.” She releases her hand, pushes through the front doors and dissolves into the abyss of strangers in the distance.

“Where is that book… that damn book…” A cute girl murmurs while scanning through the books stacked up in a shelf. I continue my own search. The book I am searching for is, too, an essential on my shopping list. I’m not sure if they have it here, even with the rustic look of this shop. Suddenly, my heart jumps as a slight pain rushes through my foot. A hiss escapes out of my mouth and I look up. Her eyes meet mine, her mouth opened. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” she apologizes as her cheeks take on a redish color. My lips form a smile. “No problem.” I assure. Her adorable presence is excuse enough. She turns back to the shelfes, her eyebrows narrowing in concentration immediately. “What book are you looking for?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off her existence. The cute rainbow pin on her bag, the dreamy fairy look- she looks exactly like my type. “Oh.. uhm..” she stammers. Worried that I made her uncomfortable, I add: “My name is Raven. Pronouns she/her.” She scans my look; black and red, shortish hair, paired with a dark, grunge looking outfit. “I’m Lyria. She/her. Nice to meet you.” Her sweet voice took on a polite tone, distanced but nice, making me feel rejected. Before I can ask another question, she turns towards a cashier and walks away. I feel a sting of sadness. She judged my look and decided she shouldn’t talk to me, something that seems to always happen to me. Dejected, I continue my search, as I still didn’t find what I need. I hear whispering and as only Lyria, the cashier and me are in here, I assume it is her. Great. Now she doesn’t even want me to know what book she is searching for. The cashier walks away, leaving Lyria and me alone. She breathes loudly, like a sigh, of either relief or exhaustion. “Here you go Miss, that would be 20$ please.” The cashier had returned. Curiosity overcomes me. I turn around to see what book it is. Green and black. A witch hat and a magic wand. The title: ‘Introduction to magic’ My mouth drops open in surprise. I rush to the checkout. “I need that book too!” I say, happy that I finally found it after hours of searching. “Sure, I will get one for you after she payed!” The mystic-looking cashier smiles widely and claps his hands. “Good to see many new students buying their books here, in the past months my customers mainly were boring humans!” he complains, laughing. I chuckle, only now realizing Lyria’s intense stare. I look at her. “Sorry.” she says, while blushing. “No need to apologize. It’s good that you aren’t trusting everyone right off the bat.” I reply, smiling at her. Her lips slowly turn into a beaming smile as well. The cashier clears his throat, reminding us of his presence. Lyria pays her book and the cashier rushes to get one for me, too. “How dumb we were to think that book would just stand in an ordinary book shelf!” I joke, hoping she won’t be offended. She shyly grins at me. Her eyes fall on the ancient looking grandfather clock next to us. “Oh, damn..” she mutters. “I have to go, but see you in school, yea?” she hastily adds. I nod enthusiastically. “I can’t wait!” Her pupils dilate and her mouth opens a bit, her perfect face is looking surprised. “Bye!” I add, smiling and meaning every word I said. And truly, I am excited for my first year at wizarding school. We didn’t meet for long, but she already made my heart race. Is that what people call “Love at first sight”?

I walk into the Mom & Pap bookstore called Quill & Chill to find a book that I need for my last class before graduating. “Just this book and no others,” I whisper to myself. I scan the shelves, I find myself seeing books I want to buy and read at home.

I turn the corner only to bump into something hard and fall to the floor. A hand reaches out to help me up, I look up and see that it’s a man who looks to be the same age as me. His messy, black hair and blue eyes are a beautiful combination, he looks to be 6’0 tall. I put my hand in his and he helps me up. My hand still tingles from when he touched it. I realize that he’s standing in front of the book I need, so I reach for it only to stop when he reaches for it too. It’s the only one left in stock. I asked him if I could have it because I needed this book for a class, and he told me he needed it for a class as well. We start talking and find out that we’re going to be in the same class which is the last class we both need to graduate. We agreed to share the book during the class and for any homework assignments.

Epilogue: 65 years later I look at my grandchildren Hannah and James sitting on the couch across from me eating their milk and cookies. I smile and my voice breaks as I whisper, “That is the story of how I met your grandfather.”

The spark had not existed Until our eyes had met Her hand upon my shoulder Her face I’ll never forget

She waited on my turn To point to the book in my hand I could not have read a line of it It’s words, I couldn’t understand

Because my breath was taken away My mind it went so cloudy I hadn’t know such utter connection Until that love had found me

I tried to blink but all I saw Were our two worlds that were colliding A page she turned and pointed out The chapter called “First Sighting”

She smiled and laughed As I stood in awe At a chapter like our story Could I skip to the end of the book? To learn if love has found me?

The warm air greeted Skye as she walked into Barnes &Nobles the smell of fresh books greeted her. when she was done causally browsing the first floor, she faced her childhood fear and went on the escalator

Once on the top floor she began looking in the fantasy section, she found the book she read when she was twelve “Crenshaw.”

༆ ༄༆༄༆

𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖡𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗌&𝖭𝗈𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖲𝗂-𝖿𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖬𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 "𝖢𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗐." 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

"𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒." 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗇

"𝖴𝗆-𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈."

"𝖺𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍."

"𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍 " 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌

"𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍." 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌

"𝗇𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖨 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍." 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽

𝖩𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗋𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍

𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾

"𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒" 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽

𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽

"𝖨𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗄 𝗂𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄." 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽

"𝗆𝗒 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗅." 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽

"𝗆𝗒 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾." 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝖾

"𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎?" 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗅 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

"𝖴𝗆.. 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁, 𝖨 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖨 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇." 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋

"𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎?." 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾

"𝗆𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋." 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽

"𝖮𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒." 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌

"𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗇." 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗄𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 "𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾?" 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗅 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌

"𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍." 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝗋.

𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉

i often wonder how our story will be told if we had met differently would we grow old together, or become the friendliest enemies

if we were the same age or from the same town sat next to each other in the cinema or walked our dogs on the same lawn

we could have met at the bookstore reaching out for the same spines have you ever wondered how beautiful it is to call those liminal spaces “spines”? you must have because i have too

you would’ve been very polite and let me inspect it first would you have tried to steal a glance at the pages or the creases of my shirt?

if i was about to take away the last copy would you follow me to the till? would you be able to tell your story or keep your silence still?

Please excuse me I’m sorry, Sir I’m just about done The books not here

What are you looking for The title is gone You are kidding I’m finding the same one