Book of Life

Today's PROMPT is

The warm sun rays lighten up the dingy room making all that it holds inside visible. A broken window with tattered curtains- the sole connection to the outside world, few scattered papers on the floor, a closed door which is in shambles and yet seems to hold so many secrets that lay within tightly, and a small outlet somewhere on the top of the wall through which shimmering sunshine is trying to peep in.

There is a chill in the air that gushes in through the windows sending a shiver down your spine every time it whistles past you. Haunted you might say, but it is completely choked up with the stories that have been read here, the places that have been seen through them and the people who have been talking about them here.
The walls look eccentric with paint peeling off at various places they seem to be trying to hold onto something with all their might. A tall book shelf in a far off corner is the only piece of furniture in the otherwise bare room. Four walls, a door, a window and one hole is what it is all made up of. And it seems so crowded with the ephemeral tales that engulf it completely in its halo. Strangely enough there are no colours in the room with everything being pale and dull, except the bright jackets on the books lying there.

Source: Google Images
Red, blue, yellow all types of hues can be found rack after rack as you shift your glance on each one of them and suddenly you stop at one which is bright red in colour with its name embossed in golden letters – Book of Life. Flipping through its pages you soak yourself in its beauty, the curling Ps, the twirling Ts, the commas that make you think, the exclamations which amaze you, the question marks that you wonder upon and those full stops that leave you wanting for more.
In a spur of a moment that small empty room no longer feels that way. It is full of people coming to life through those pages you just touched, trying to tell you their story and surrounding you with a magic that is uniquely theirs. The lonely reader is now basking in the romance created by the story teller, feeling the love and agonising over their pain, shedding copious tears and then hugging them in the end just to believe it was all for true. By the time you close the book you feel it was you who was loved, it was your heart that broke and in the end it was you who choose to still smile! 

I am taking part in The Write Tribe Festival of Words 8th – 14th December 2013.

Write Tribe

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