One step. Two steps. Hands brushing the spines.
Three steps.
Stop.
They whispered.
Her thumbs rubbed the title. Careful fingers caressing the top. She rifled the corners, watching the story slide out.
One step...
They muttered.
Five steps.
Stop.
She slid another book from its place on the shelf. She flipped it, the back cover creating a window.
She put the book back.
They quivered.
She sat down. Behind her books prodded. In front books begged.
"Choose me!" they beckoned. "Turn my pages!" Their adventures leaked from their bindings.
A small tome caught her eye. Golden title gleaming.
She crawled down the length of the shelf. Crouched near the bottom.
Another book called. She flipped the pages under her thumb.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The words raged.
She slammed it shut.
The library was quiet.
Then they were whispering again.
Her own book called from her bag. She had already committed. Finish one before the other.
Fifteen chapters in.
"You promised," it said.
She turned to the page. And the book spoke to her.
