Theme 8 - Books

From @ghaatidancer : Hiding under blankets, with only a dim light to keep me company, I discovered you. I've slept with you under my pillow, hoping I'll absorb all you have to say. Tonight, as I close my eyes, come, emblazon my mind with your words. Again.

From @kantaap : Within each of us is a story. Each one of us has a beginning and an end. Every chapter, every surprise element, every character, all become a part of our tale. Whether hardbound or not, lengthy or light, it tells the story of who we are. It stays with us. Right until - The End.

From @thehumerus : She couldn’t find any sleep. She had been tossing and turning all night. Though this had happened to her brothers and sisters as well, she was not quite prepared for it. Nevertheless, she was gradually getting used to it. Because she, the page, could not let him go.

From @nimue_ : She read a lot about love. He had never read anything. They met outside the bookstore but never talked of books. she left reading when she realized love was not all rosy as in the books. He started reading to find new words for his love filled dreams. Their story made into a bestseller novel..

From @The_CupcakeGirl : As the fire calms down, the only thing that remains are some leather covered beloved books. So I forget why I set this room on fire and sit down to build a fort. I am momentarily happy and then I wait for the storm to come again. And I'll set it all on fire again.

From @DushtuMey He stepped inside the train. There she was, sitting and reading a sequel to the book he had gifted her 2 years ago. Much had transpired. “Hi Neha”, he imagined his voice quiver. Suddenly distracted, she looked up. Picked up the bookmark, its edge now stained with coffee, shut the book and left the café.

From @BikkiGill : He smiled as he wore his hat. Schizophrenic. Delusional. That’s what they called him. He could hear the nurse snoring gently on the other side of his locked bedroom door and took a final deep breath. All they found in the morning was one of his books open on the table, fluttering without a breeze.

From @TheGodlet : Notepads sullied by conversations hastily scribbled in the middle of a class, scrap books filled with cheesy quotes from so called friends, pages marred by groups of French verbs, textbooks that left even the bullies whimpering in fear. Boxed it all up and gave it away. Now I miss how simple life used to be.

From @Catpricious : In his corner room, Ron and Hermione bickered over a pile of books, while Gandalf blew glorious smoke rings at the window. "Don't do that!" he exclaimed as he noticed Artemis' hands slipping towards Edward's mirror. A cat hissed at a stray page from a book, startling him, and then all his friends were gone.

From @Oven_Tikka : She loved how they smelled, that intoxicating scent that she never tired of. She could spend hours running her fingers over them, feeling their warmth, their love. They were her world and more. They were her best friends, her solace, her eyes. Without them, her world was dark. Those raised dots that were her books.

From @TextuallyHorny : We met on the twentieth line of the eleventh page in his manuscript. Hundred pages of romance with few couplets of silent admiration till that perfect climax, happy ending, he decided. I was excited, probably she too. The last chapter never got scripted and alas, our silent love never saw the light of this world…

From @laalfirangi : "And then they explored each other’s body like unfolding pages of a book. Reading some more with every page. Learning some more with every line. Creating their own story alongside. Wobbling between sex and romance, they paved the path for their love to grow. Erotica turned into a love saga in less than 50 words."

From @IndianIdle : She was young and attractive,yet no one paid attention to her. She went to parties to find friends but as if anyone cared. Tired and lost from the life she went in to a corner and found an old book. She embraced it,suddenly she felt warm. First time she found a friend.

From @mizarcle : What if books came to life?, he asked. "What if they did? Would you change the ending of your story? Would you make your characters happier?"
"But then, they wouldn't make good books would they? Art imitates life and life imitates art. But life doesn't have poetic lincense." "Imagine what God goes through everyday, then."

From @Freelosopher : It was his first time.The feeling was overwhelming, as he stood
amongst other established luminaries. Looking around, he felt confident as he had been taught well. He knew he would be powerless as the judges would enter, search, select and leave. As the bookstore manager changed the door sign to 'Open', his wait began.

From @vivekisms : He hadn’t stepped out of his house in years. Words were all that he needed. Books lay everywhere, like forgotten children on a picnic. Half-opened, half-read, but there, breathing life into him. Watching every move of his. Silently. He spoke with them. Read them. Remembered them and then he was gone. Books wept for him.

From @floydianbrahman : He tip-toed upstairs, listening for any sound from mama's room. Pulling the attic door open with his tiny hands, he beamed at the shiny package. He knew mother too well to know where she'd stash it. Taking a stool, he flicked on the lamp. Birthday surprises are for Muggles. 'The Boy who Lived' lives on.

From @ChhotaRecharge : Teenage, college, rose day, nervous excitement. "Meet at the canteen?"; I knew what to expect, the butterflies in my stomach knew it too... and there he was, smiling his perfect smile. I stretched my hand..he returned a borrowed book. Tears, run back home, throw the book across the room....a red rose.

From @ibeingme : She collapsed from her chair onto the floor. Her novel was complete with the word "End." She lied on the floor in dark, thinking about her own life. She watched as ink like blood dripped onto the floor. Finally, she had killed her character in life.

From @whiskeytwilight : "....She’s the rhythm to my otherwise tone-deaf voice. This book is dedicated to Saira, my wife.” Lies. This book is a memory of him and me.
He clasped his hands as he noticed him breathing each of these words to scribes.
He knew there were ways to get famous. He realized one of them today.

From @themodestninja : A deep sniff - Paper and Glue. Heaven. The pages opened and the characters came to life. The monotony of the room became charged with colour and excitement. It took him back to the past and poked the future's belly. So much to learn, to enjoy! All in his palms... Like a smartphone, only better. Heaven.

From @wannabesanyasin : She couldn’t stop smiling. Almost speechless. They sat on the same bench in school. She took out her Rough Book, went to the very last page and scribbled something. He kept wondering. Dodging his curious eyes, she continued to scribble. She looked him in the eye and smiled. “I’m head-over-heels for you.” the book said.

From @sadafsiddiqui : He wandered into his old library, to lose himself among his loyal friends. He started reading a dusty old book and was soon spellbound. The story was eerily similar to his life, about a forgotten author who lived and died among his books. Next day his body was found and next to it, his diary.

From @gauravjagwani : There it was. The lone book on the shelf. My life on multiple sheets of paper seen through my brother’s eyes. I haven’t read it even once. For I lived it. Lived through it all. My brother asked me why I wanted the second half of the book blank. My answer: ‘I am still alive.’