He keeps flipping the bookcover, back and forth, back and forth, each tap of his fingers against the glossy cardboard echoing down the library aisles. Back and forth, back and forth as he sits stiffly in the armchair by the curtains that smell like book-binding glue. A stack of old novels topples over on the floor beside him, thick volumes and thin ones, paperbacks and hardcovers, leather-bound or paper-covered with fading letters. He doesn't seem to notice. The bookcover continues its journey back and forth, back and forth. Why can't he hold it still?
She is watching him from behind a shelf, her own hands following his motion in the air. He doesn't see her, doesn't feel her eyes fixed on him or the catch in her breath as he starts to look her way. For the first time, his hands pause. The book slips off his lap and joins the pile at his feet.
Does he see her? Her thin, paper-colored lips tremble, her hands fall limply to her sides. But his eyes pass over her, pass over the bookshelves and the ragged armchairs and the heavy curtains until they pause, pensive, looking out the window. From his chair, he can see the gray clouds gathering across the late summer sky. But she sees only him, and her wide, sleepy eyes stare out of the book-shelf shadows like two holes in a smooth sheet of binding leather.
Neither one moves for a moment, only a moment, and then she is crossing the aisle with soft library steps. She walks in front of his chair, stepping over the toppled pile of novels, walks right across his line of vision until she stands in front of the window. He has no choice but to look at her now. He does, narrowing his eyes to thin green slips. She smiles and pulls the curtains closed, not minding the cloud of sweetly paper-scented dust that blows up at her face.
"The sunlight isn't good for the books," she says, and bends down to pick them up.
He watches her lift them in her soft, page-turning hands. Then she disappears back into the shadows of the bookshelves, a quiet smile on her lips. His hands tremble as he opens his book and pushes the cover back and forth, back and forth. His eyes never move from the spot where she last stood.
A contest entry
- Flash fiction! by Ade Conway.
170 points, ended May 30, 2007, 5 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Please give me and honest opinion!
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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fun!
Great descriptions!! I felt like I was right there in the library, watching the scene unfold in front of me. Nice and short, straight to the point. I would suggest to lengthen it, but it's already perfect the way it is. Normally I'm not too satisfied with really short stories like this, but this was the perfect amount. Good plot, characters, details. It had everything a short story needs, and definitely pleased the reader (me haha). You have a lot of talent, because I have never seen anyone able to fit this kind of story into such a small amount of words and have it flow so nicely. Great job, and keep up the awesome writing! You definitely have talent.
-code named 17 -
Really good, actually really really good. Your very good descriptive writer and everything is very clear in your writing, so there's no mix ups
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Good job. Very riveting. I could smell the books and see the dust floating in the sunlight.
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Very nice descriptions here. I love how they're book-related, really drawing you into the scene. At first, it makes you wonder if the librarian is a book herself.
Though very little actually happens here, it's a quietly profound moment.
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good
this was really nice...great description...beautiful concept great job. -
Outstanding!
I must first say: Welcome, welcome, welcome to Storywrite! I hope your stay is a happy one.
Wow. I really enjoyed reading this piece. What a fascinating story. Fascinating imagery. Fascinating!
I am giving you my honest opinion, and that honest opinion says this: Good job! I look forward to reading more of your work!!!!
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Surprisingly, I actually read this piece before you commented on mine. I wanted to return the favor. In your story, the way everything just seems to flow from one moment to the next and the imagery is my favorite. I always seem to have trouble with that... Your story makes me want to know what actually happens next between the two, if anything... Plus, there is the simple fact that a library is one of my favorite places. I loved this story. Hope you have a great day. (Thanks for you comment) Hope you do well in the contest.
MoonNight
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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