The clock ticks, the oscillating fan buzzes, and the faucet drips.
I should be doing laundry. The overflowing hamper mocks me every time I pass. I should pay the bills on my desk. Piled haphazardly beside my mouse, they remind me that the weeks are slipping by. But on the table in the bedroom, something is calling me to come – to get away – to get lost.
It doesn’t take much for me to slip from this world of junk mail, chores and obligations. A cup of Bavarian Wild Berry tea and a square of Dove dark chocolate can serve quite nicely as a distraction, as can the ‘juke box’ of melodies on my iPod. But my favorite escape route is past the hinged door of a book-cover, through the curtain of stiff, gorgeously textured endpapers, and into the ink-spattered pages of my latest favorite book.
It beckons me, and I surrender. I sink into the comfy chair and lift the tome, relishing its weight in my hand. As I open its cover, I hear a tiny creak. I thumb through the first few pages, while the letters and words dance across the inked page. The boy with the scar on his forehead is in detention again. This makes it very hard to solve the mystery and defeat the bad guys, but I believe he’ll find a way.
The breeze of flapping wings blows against both our faces. The derision in the voice of that slippery professor echoes in my ears. And when the scar begins to ache, I imagine that my forehead tingles a bit, as well.
The pages rustle between my fingers, the ice in my tea clinks against the glass, and a breathy sigh escapes my lips. But I hear only the letters and words – weaving their story, casting their spell. I’ve escaped into another world, and I’m lost between the pages. Meanwhile, the laundry, the bills and the real world wait for my return.
In answer to Koffee Kween's latest writing challenge. Follow her link to read more entries.
Don't miss The Box, Part VI - The Conclusion, on Antique Mommy's site. It's a true masterpiece.
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