BLYTHE. (noun) Happiness, cheerfulness. Someone who's joyful.
Zoe doesn't remember the exact date she got ill. All she knows is that once she was fine and then she wasn't. Unable to find a way to cure her depression, at the tender age of eighteen, s...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It had been a while since Zoe had visited Mr. Harris' house and it had been longer for Sawyer. Truthfully, it wasn't easy for Sawyer to look at this place and drown the bitter sight of the abandoned building that used to be a cozy home to him years ago. His heart ached when he looked at the cold building and witnessing how much things had changed. Witnessing what was lost and what could never be back again.
If buildings were people, this one would be sick compared to what it used to be. All of the health was sucked out of it until the skeleton was the only thing that remained.
A few doors and windows were missing. The place was unkempt. The grass had gotten so long you'd think the house was built in the middle of the jungle. Spider webs adorned the dark corners of the walls and ceilings and at times a homeless dog would come and find shelter inside, some other times a drug addict would accompany the dog while getting its usual dose of magical white floor and then happily gazing from the windowless window at the moon.
Who would blame them? The moon looked amazingly beautiful in this place. It looked magical. There was just something about this house, about this whole neighborhood- it made you feel as if you had escaped from the earth and teleported into a magical place, into one of those prosperous villages only happy people lived in with merchant street abounding in people, young, old, dressed in fine dresses and lavish suits, arms wound around each other, the city buzzing from life. Stands filled with pieces of jewelry crafted carefully by the most skillful artisans of other faraway exotic lands, dried leaves of delicious teas deposited in beautiful boxes extremely pleasing to the eyes, cafes, and croissants and stands with pieces of clothing of all colors patiently waiting to be wrapped around women's beautiful naked bodies, magnificent horses with shiny hair and strong muscles carrying in their backs the owners floating around their jaw-dropping possessions. Candies, sweets, and children playing around stopping to salivate at the desserts that caught their eye until someone generous enough bought it for them. And the place was filled with generous people. It looked like it was being isolated by the evilness of the outside world.
And what Zoe liked the most, there were libraries. Libraries looked small from the outside but were an endless maze of shelves filled with books inside. Libraries that were there so long no one could tell when they were built. Libraries where that nice old lady with her beige shawl and warm smile always greeted people when you came inside and that young sweet woman with dimples on her cheeks worked diligently, looking like the happiest and most satisfied person in the world even after abandoning her role and riches as a faraway unknown but wealthy country's princess. Libraries filled with books, and lots and lots of books of all kinds. So many books a lifetime wouldn't be enough to read them all. Libraries with huge windows and lots of light with little noise and with perhaps a secret passage or two, hiding books about magic, about legends of kings who sacrificed their all for a mere commoner woman or about commoner women who became the greatest rulers the world had seen, and books about galaxies and stars and alluring theories and stories about unexplored planets. And books about angels and devils and unrequited love and tragedies. Books about war and peace and hate and love and about human stupidity and how to be a witch and cast spells to disappear through doors that take you to wonderful lands away from people like wizard Howl.
