Bookworms

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Their hands had eyes. Big, black, and dripping. Dripping with ink. Fresh. Ink.

I walked into the local bookstore to buy a copy of Alexandra Bracken’s new book, Never Fade.

First, I noticed that the bookstore was packed. Way more populous than usual. Then, that everyone in the store was still.

Like time had frozen; It had not. Everyone’s attention was glued to their books.

At first I thought: wow! This is great everyone is reading.

Then I realized that everyone was reading the same old, brown, leather-bound, book. With a language on the cover that I did not know. That language. Unknowable.

Everyone’s hands began dripping. This black liquid staining the floor. Ink. Fresh. Ink.

Like any rational human being, I did not panic. I did not panick even when the chanting through the intercom started. I did not panic because, as everyone knows, death is just a myth. A clever fib created by our clever ancestors to scare us. To trick us into spending our time wisely. To scare us into making the right decisions. Our very wise ancestors who had our best interests in mind. you will be missed.

Let us all take a moment to remember our ansestors; whose enchantments and sacrifices to the Great Orb couldn’t save them from the unknowable forces that swept them away from us.

After I reminded myself that death was just a myth, I found a copy of Never Fade by Alexandra Bracken and took it to the check out station. There was one cashier there who had just clocked in. He wasn’t reading the big, brown, leather-bound book. The book with that language, the unknowable language, on the brown and leather cover. He also didn’t have the large black eye on his palm that everyone else had. The throbbing black eye which poured black ink on to the floor. So I decided to check out with him instead of bothering the other cashiers.

When I’d purchased my book he groaned a farewell and picked up a copy of the old, brown, leather-bound book. He then opened the book and a long and black, slimy worm jumped into his mouth, and a big, black eye appeared on his palm.

I left that little bookstore in awe. I couldn’t believe I’d finally gotten my hands on Alexadra Bracken’s new book Never Fade, and I can’t wait to read it.

Today’s Quote of the Day is:

“Look up a the sky. Don’t worry about a thing. Oh, that screaming? It’s nothing. No one is being violently murdered. People with murderous apetites don’t exist silly. Shhh.” – Randy Ortiz

Thanks for reading.

NeighborHoods

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This morning I was on my way home from having breakfast with a friend. I was driving through this residential neighborhood when my car started making these weird spouting noises and started slowing down. I pulled over to the curb and tried to crank my car back up, but nothing happened. It didn’t even make a sound.

So I got out of the car thinking: hey, maybe someone in this neighborhood might be able to help me out.

I shut the car door, stretched and looked up at the sky for a minute. There was this bird. Beautiful and majestic, this bird surely was. As all birds are. This particular bird was very odd though. It wasn’t flying around or anything. It was just sitting up in the sky, frozen.

At least it wasn’t attempting to commit suicide. That’s progress, people.

It wasn’t just the bird that was frozen though. There was no wind blowing, no light breeze. Everything was completely silent, as if the world were frozen, or dead.

When I looked back down from th sky. I noticed that there was a man standing in front of every house in the neighborhood.

These men were all dressed in an identical fasion. They all had on long black robes and low hanging hoods. I honestly don’t know how thy could see with their hoods hanging so low. But oh, they could see. They could see me.

They all started walking towards me slowly; chanting in a language I don’t know.

I’d be lying if I said I weren’t frozen by terror for a second.

Still walking slow, so slow, thy pulled out these short blades. They were bronzen and had engravings in a language I didn’t know on the blade.

They all started to cut themselves and the sweet, sweet, scarlet blood poured from their bodies. So sweet. So scarlet.

I ran back to my car, got in, and turned the key like my life depended on it (because, it probably did). The car finally cranked after the third or fourth turn of the key.

When I looked back up at the road everything was engulfed by this sepia toned fog. So I drove. Well over the speed limit. I definitely did not hit many of the hooded men with my car. That would be like, a crime or something.

When I got out of the fog I looked in my rearview mirror and everything was gone. The men, the houses, the neighborhood, even the road was gone. there was this big hole in the earth where everything had been.

Bless that fog! Bless that saviour of my life! I just want to find it and thank it.

Also, if anyone sees a brownish, sepia toned fog DO NOT APPROACH IT. You probably won’t die, but you will cease to exist.

Today’s Quote of the Day is:

“You cannot look upon my face, for you have no eyes. You are but a shell, ragged and tattered. You think a heart will make you whole. You know nothing. You see nothing. You are nothing. Good.” – Anonymous

Thanks for reading.