That writing thing again
May. 28th, 2013 01:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bjornwilde Something original again...and a bit of a tribute to all the wonderful fantasies that start in libraries and bookstores.
The sign just inside the door of the book seller read "To read a book, you must leave a book. To leave with a book, you must purchase it. Prices negotiable." Brendan thought the sign was odd but given that he was caught in the rain and was being hunted by Tom and his brutes, he didn't think too much about it before he ducked in. The sight that greeted him, however, chased all thoughts of physical discomfort or violence out of his mind. The place was huge and not just in the sense that older buildings always seemed larger inside. No, this was TARDIS larger on the inside huge. And the books...the smell hit you right on the heels of the visual shock. It was the musty, leathery smell of true books. Books that were loved and cared for and not mass produced to be consumed and forgotten. There was a gravitas to the place. A sense of refined age, as if the store were an old, beloved teacher.
Brendan's wonder was abruptly shattered when he heard his name shouted outside and the heavy sounds of boots splashed beyond the door. He immediately unlocked his knees and hit the floor, hoping he hadn't been spotted. His eyes at a much lower height now, he almost screamed to find himself face to face with a cat who looked at him with a disdainful curiosity. He kept the cat's gaze while he held his breath waiting for the sounds of Tom and his boys to fade.
The cat cleaned its claws.
The sign just inside the door of the book seller read "To read a book, you must leave a book. To leave with a book, you must purchase it. Prices negotiable." Brendan thought the sign was odd but given that he was caught in the rain and was being hunted by Tom and his brutes, he didn't think too much about it before he ducked in. The sight that greeted him, however, chased all thoughts of physical discomfort or violence out of his mind. The place was huge and not just in the sense that older buildings always seemed larger inside. No, this was TARDIS larger on the inside huge. And the books...the smell hit you right on the heels of the visual shock. It was the musty, leathery smell of true books. Books that were loved and cared for and not mass produced to be consumed and forgotten. There was a gravitas to the place. A sense of refined age, as if the store were an old, beloved teacher.
Brendan's wonder was abruptly shattered when he heard his name shouted outside and the heavy sounds of boots splashed beyond the door. He immediately unlocked his knees and hit the floor, hoping he hadn't been spotted. His eyes at a much lower height now, he almost screamed to find himself face to face with a cat who looked at him with a disdainful curiosity. He kept the cat's gaze while he held his breath waiting for the sounds of Tom and his boys to fade.
The cat cleaned its claws.
