[This book is inspired by musicals/plays, and poetry]
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•°•°•°•° "Imagination can be romantic." •°•°•°•°
Madelaine Bowman is a child of wonders, yet she despise the world and its flaws. She craves perfection. She craves for a friend. Sh...
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•Chapter 6: The Bookstore•
"I told you, Maddie, you're the perfect lass to be up on that stage," John chirped. "Mr. Habicht already took you in. Told me you'd be singing there thrice a week or somethin' of the sort."
"I'm surprised myself that he would," Madelaine replied, holding back a smile.
John gently held his niece's hand as they continued their walk home. They walked at the same pace until Madelaine started to slow down, remembering what William had said to her.
"Uncle John," she began as she slowed down.
John stopped walking and turned to her, "What is it, love?"
Madelaine looked at her uncle, remembering how many times she had requested politely for new books. John had not bought Madelaine book for over a year now, and she then asked if she could go to the bookstore herself, but of course, he didn't allow her.
Madelaine bit her lower lip and said, "I want to go to the bookstore," she stuttered. "Please."
"What for?" John asked, even though he already knew the answer to that.
"I'm going to buy some new books. It has been a while since I've read new ones."
"Madelaine," her uncle said carefully, "Can't you reread the books at home?"
She shook her head slowly, "No. Lucas and I have been bored with them--they've become dull."
"I see," John muttered, squirming upon hearing Lucas' name. He stared to the grey sky and scratched his almost-bald head. This was all William's fault. If he didn't say anything other than to greet her, Madelaine would never remember the bookstore, he thought. But then again, she did need some new books. John knew how much Madelaine cherished books, and how much she wants to keep reading.
John didn't want to turn down Madelaine anymore. A feeling of pity grew inside him. "Right, we'll go. Just keep close."
Madelaine gasped and wrapped her arms around her uncle.
"William!" John knocked on the front door of the bookstore loudly.
The bookstore was not small, although it was not huge either. It was old--the yellow tint of its walls were slowly chipping off, and a dirty signboard hanged above John and Madelaine's head, the words 'Books for Sale!' written in red.
"William! Oy, are you even there, you cheeky sod, you--"
"Uncle, please," Madelaine was embarrassed by her uncle's loud banging on the door. "People are looking at us."
Just when John was about to answer, the creaky door swung open, and he was faced with William with a crunched look. "The door was open this 'ole time, you loud bastard," he said. When his eyes diverted towards Madelaine, he instantly flashed a smile towards her. "Miss Madelaine! Fancy seeing you here."
