From the day we moved into the house, I could sense we weren’t alone. My husband jokingly calls me “his little psychic,” and trivializes my perceptions, so I resolved this time to keep silent. The house was offered fully furnished… Continue Reading
Dusty, peeling eucalyptus trees lined the dirt walkway that led from the library back to my grandma’s house. I carried four books, all I was allowed to check out, close to my chest. I walked quickly, eyes cast to the… Continue Reading
One of the most notorious episodes in the Aleph Club’s history of course was the time it agreed to purchase an infinite library from a mysterious South American salesman passing through on business. “It will be just like that time… Continue Reading
In a box of mixed up secondhand books, something needs to stand out. This one did. Its title, How to Disappear; Vanishment Made Easy, caught my eye at once, mixed in with cheap novels from the Fifties and various “How… Continue Reading
Emily closed the book she had been reading to her sister Stacy. She squeezed it tightly for a forever moment before letting it go. It reassured her to think that the pages with no space between them all reinforced each… Continue Reading
I’m one (perhaps the last one) of those genetically mutated humans who thrives on cellulose and ink to the exclusion of all other food. When Papa died in ’90, I bought a huge collection of books at the Ossing estate… Continue Reading
I’m Nobody — not the one in Emily Dickinson’s poem, although we share the same views. Tonight, you will find me in the grim green room. When in this room — and I’m dragged back here all too often —… Continue Reading
I lost my job and my girlfriend on the same day. Trudging back from the office after being dismissed I found the flat empty and the jar we had crammed with savings half as full as it had been. In… Continue Reading
Edgar slid through the door of the bookshop minutes before Lady Randolph would flip the sign from “open” to “closed.” Wintergreen and cigarette scented air huffed out between her loose lips as he walked past the counter. He rubbed his… Continue Reading
Charlotte sank her pitchfork into the fragrant compost and daydreamed of libraries — the old-fashioned sort, lined with yellowed tomes of liver-spotted pages and fragile leather spines that crackled against her palm. As data technician officer for the colony on… Continue Reading