Spells of Magic
Title: Spells of Magic
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 193
Books surrounded her in neat piles, inside the ebook reader on the table beside her, and on the internet itself accessed through her laptop. All these stories, each begging to have their words read, to resonate inside her mind and each was more captivating than the last before being interrupted as another captured her attention in its turn. Yet still below the surface the unfinished stories tugged irritatingly for her to finish absorbing them.
“Tomorrow,” she told them, “tomorrow I’ll finish reading you. Really. I will.”
The television’s seductive song drew her attention. So many stories there too but more immediate, more important, for the feeling was if you missed even a moment it would be gone, its story unable to be recaptured.
A feeling welled inside, ‘I too have a story’ and her fingers moved over the keyboard; the letters appearing one by one, word by word upon the grey backed whiteness of the page. And for a while, all the other stories were pushed away as she created her own world and characters; her own story. It wasn’t real. But it was beautiful and it went where she guided it… usually.
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 193
Books surrounded her in neat piles, inside the ebook reader on the table beside her, and on the internet itself accessed through her laptop. All these stories, each begging to have their words read, to resonate inside her mind and each was more captivating than the last before being interrupted as another captured her attention in its turn. Yet still below the surface the unfinished stories tugged irritatingly for her to finish absorbing them.
“Tomorrow,” she told them, “tomorrow I’ll finish reading you. Really. I will.”
The television’s seductive song drew her attention. So many stories there too but more immediate, more important, for the feeling was if you missed even a moment it would be gone, its story unable to be recaptured.
A feeling welled inside, ‘I too have a story’ and her fingers moved over the keyboard; the letters appearing one by one, word by word upon the grey backed whiteness of the page. And for a while, all the other stories were pushed away as she created her own world and characters; her own story. It wasn’t real. But it was beautiful and it went where she guided it… usually.