My tears stained the handwritten yellow paper, making some words fade from it, but I could still read it. I hugged the letter tightly to my chest and wept for about an hour.
I missed him, more than anything in the whole world.
When I finally pulled myself back together, I carefully folded and placed the letter back in its envelope, handling it with the utmost care and put it back on the table, before picking the weird looking book up, it had weird symbols, that I've never seen before in my life.
I studied the book carefully, the spine was so beautiful, it was covered in golden vines, that looked like they were climbing up from the inside of the spine, travelling to the front and back of it.
On a closer look, I noticed that the vines breathed, which made me gasp and for the book to fall from my hands and onto the table, causing me to take a couple of steps back and observe it from a distance, while also rubbing my eyes to make sure I wasn't imagining things. Once I made sure that this only was a trick of the light and my overly active imagination, I took a step closer, picking the book up in my hands again, and took a seat on the table, moving my laptop out of the way and placing the book in front of me, as I kept examining it.
It was a beautiful emerald, thick and quite heavy for this sort of book, the binding was of hardback, upon opening it the sweet scent of jasmine hit me and I couldn't help myself as I picked up the book and stuffed it straight to my face, taking in the amazing scent of it. Ever since I discovered books, I'd always do that, like I'd try and get sucked in it, it showed me how old the book was and how very used, in my opinion, the older the book, the better, but that's just me. As I started browsing through the pages of the book, I realized that it was...empty
Empty?
How could that be? What book was empty? Was the book written in invisible ink? I'd have no way of knowing...I kept studying the book for about 2 minutes before my frustration got the better of me and I shut it closed, immediately pushing it away from me and crossed my arms as I watched it from afar.
''I don't know what kind of games you're playing from your grave Granpa..but this one was not very funny'' I muttered to the empty air
And just like that, I went back to try finding a job.
YOU ARE READING
A Dreams End...
FantasyWelcome to the strange world of Astrid Lynnette Beaufort, a famous writer with tons of books under her name Follow her journey through different worlds, places and creatures.. Watch her follow the steps of her grandfather as she discovers love, pain...
