The Misblown Wind

CHAPTER 12 - Message in a book

When I hit my room with those two crazy letters, I carefully threw them on the bed and began unpacking things. It took me half the day to settle those in their supposed places. I planted all the books and novels in order on the tree branch bookshelf, which was sticking to the wall in the right corner of the room. It gave a very top-notch and elegant look to the room, and I was totally amazed by that.

When I turned back to clutch another stack of books from the box, I accidentally hit something with my foot. There was a book lying partially under the shelf that caught my eye. Probably, the previous house owner should've left it inadvertently out of an urge.

The book was so engulfed in dust that I couldn't even read the title. I laid hold of a tissue and swabbed its title page. And there goes the moment of fangirl blush as I found one of my favorite authors name on it. It was Nicholas Sparks' Message in a Bottle book. Once, I was so obsessed with that book that I was in desolation and stayed put in my room for days. It was the one and only book within which I almost lost myself while flicking through its pages.

Each and every letter written by Garrett Blake to his deceased wife, Catherine, stirs my heart even at the mere thought of it. I was keening for Catherine and how unlucky she was to miss celebrating those letters. It took me radically a month to get out of the stings of that book. In fact, I could say that my passion for handwritten letters began very much with that paperback.

I have always wondered whether I would get someone like Garrett to write me letters, and obviously I don't want myself dead like Catherine for that. Unlike her, I want to be alive gaily to visualize those soul-stirring love letters that Garrett would compose for me.

I turned the pages quickly just to smell the nostalgia of the pages. On the first page, it was stated that this book belongs to the San Francisco Public Library. It was apparently borrowed a few months ago, and the due date was evidently overdue. On the last page of the book, it was written in pencil as a suggestion for the next book, 'It Ends With Us'. It evoked the thought of paying a visit there to return this book and grab the suggested book from there. It always injects some kind of bliss to read the books of others' choice.

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My jaw dropped when I saw the interiors of SFPL. It was huge and crowded at every hour. There were diverse color heads wearing goggles, reliving the words in the book with their hands holding it, turning the pages with curious eyes in thirst to explore what awaits on the next page. That's the moment I witnessed 'Silence is more noisy', and I couldn't bear that noise.

I proceeded to issue the book back. The service section was engaged by a young boy who appeared to be my age. I speculated that he might be working here part-time. As I intended to return the book to him, he gave me a weird look straight in the face after seeing the title of it. He must be anxious about returning the book after all these years.

"How did you get this book, Ms", he stammered, as he hadn't yet gotten a chance to know my name. "It's Elena Davis. And someone seems to miss it. I found it and so thought of returning."

Though I gave him an affiliative smile, he didn't change his reaction and pulled the book from my hand with a blank, emotionless face. He did not care to thank me for saving one of their books. He didn't even want to look at my face. I stood bemused by his rude act. I shrugged and looked the other way as his action sparked my temper.

I implemented all the procedures quickly to get rid of him. Once I procured my new library card, I scampered towards the books section.

I gasped the air, bearing the disparate emotions of people going through different genres of books, and it boosted my nerves and provoked me to read more. I hunted every shelf in search of the captivating book, and I stopped as soon as I found one titled 'It Ends With Us'. The purple flower on the title page attracted my eyes, and I grabbed it without a second thought.