Book of Secrets

The pages flapped angrily in her face, exploding from the book in hurricanes and circling hastily where she stood. Yet she still couldn’t read the book. The words danced and squirmed across the parchment pages, hiding from her desperate eyes. The papers flapped at her hair, became caught in her dress before breaking free and circling her again, encasing her in some wild tornado of broken book. She flinched as another became caught in her long hair, and tugged to free itself from the tangle.It yanked itself free and flew off again, a thin stream of hair clung to the ripped page as it fluttered back into the air around her.

Clutching the book in one hand, she gently stroked her head where the hair had been yanked from. She winced again at the pain and the brought the book closer to her face, searching for some meaning in the jumbled words. The paper flapped angrily at her again, swooping in at her, trying to knock the book from her sturdy hands. She was not afraid, after all it was only paper.

The book was tightly pinned in between her fingers,yet a warmth seemed to spread through its pages, crawling up her fingertips and into her wrists and elbows. A gentle shudder ran through the book, and without warning it flung itself towards her, pressing itself upon her face. She stumbled backwards, fear replacing the bravery she had once felt. Her hands flew up to her face, clawing at the book, trying to prise it from her. Above her the papers gathered together in huddles, parchment crackling in what sounded like giggles and laughter at the girl’s misfortune. It was no use, the words surrounded her eyeballs, and finally she understood the true meaning of the book.

This week’s Picture it and Write

3 thoughts on “Book of Secrets

  1. Mind-blowing. That was…out of this world. The finale to your story was so incredibly powerful. I really loved the imagery of the paper ripping through her hair, taking a couple of strands with it. This….just wow…. So. Amazing. Don’t stop writing! Thanks for contributing this week at Picture it & write. It was a pleasure reading this story.

  2. This was the first one I read and I got taken away before I could comment. I was so intrigued in thinking I thought I understood the true meaning, but I’m scared to say, because I know it’s different for everyone.

    I thought the meaning was that a book is just words on a page, beating at her face, tearing at her hair, clawing at her eyes, until she learns that the reader is their master.

    Right or wrong, I loved it.

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