This was written for a challenge a few friends and I had going. I really enjoyed it and thought I would put it here as an example of the sort of things I make on a regular basis.
Title: a whisper in the waves
Length: ~400 words
Notes: This is a story about the descrution of books, just so you know.
The books whisper.
They say quiet words to one another, telling the stories that don’t sit within their own pages. They talk and trade tales with one another, hoping to come across a story that doesn’t already sit within one of their spines.
And yet, when the new book arrives, the book with the winding artwork, with the pages stained dark, none of the other suspect a thing.
“I can tell you a story,” the book whispers, it’s tentacled cover opening just a little. “I can tell you so many stories.”
They don’t believe it though, they can’t. So many books come in, all bravado and big dreams. They can out-tell any of the books sitting in the library, they’re sure of it.
But this book is quiet, patient even, and once it made it’s offer, it is content to wait until the others are ready.
And eventually, the others get curious, urge it to tell whatever sundry story that sits between its pages.
If only a book could smile, how it wouldgrin.
It tips over, falling from the shelf and opening itself to the others. Water starts spilling from the pages, filling the floor of the basement library and rising, rising, rising. There are things in that water, sea creatures that swim lazily around the room, peering at the books with large, dark eyes.
Even a mermaid makes her appearance, pulling herself from the pages and watching, her head tilted, as the books cry out in horror.
This is so far from what they wanted.
The mermaid makes her way to one of the shelves, picking up a book and tossing it into the water. It let out a cry as it hit the water but no matter what it tried to do, it’s pages were soaked through.
The room is filling fast and the books are drowning, dying, damage too hard to bear coming at more and more of them. The mermaid looks on in pity, yet she can’t hide the pleasure in her eyes.
When the water reaches the top step, she makes her way there, sitting on the edge and willing her fin into legs, her toes wiggling as the waves lap at her new skin..
Soon it will be time to make an appearance, to step into the world and see what it has to offer. For now, though, she sits, listening to the dying gasps of the books and weaving her hair into a braid.