Aurora Magazine 2009

Novelty By Amy Watkins

I’m the book that you buy despite the fact that you know you’ll probably never read it.  So, you’ll place me upon a shelf and there I will sit gathering grime and cobwebs.  Days, possibly years, later after many generations of arachnids have hatched from the crevices of my spine you’ll find me pushed behind the more prominent volumes of your personal library.

What an odd little book, you’ll think as you try placing my origin.

My tiny frame will fit neatly into the folds of your fingers. As my pages fall open, dust will float into the air filling your nostrils with that lovingly familiar scent of old, musty paper.

I imagine you sitting there in the softly fading light of the day quietly turning my pages.  You’ll read my happiness, my anger, my sorrow, my solitude, my hopes, my dreams.  I am in those pages, tired and emotionally naked.  You’ll read me and your mind will curl up into the lines of the unfolding tale.                                                 

My story is short.  My pages are yellowed.  My words small and simple. 

I’ll eventually find my way back to the shelf and returned to my cozy little spot behind your set of suspense and romance novels.  The only hint of exposure will be the subtle bends in my brittle pages and your fingerprints left in the dust on the cover.

It’s okay. If you ever need a friend, just pull me off the shelf.