THE "BURNING" BOOK

The book slept... The smell rose... He abruptly shut the chattering pages down. All silence, all calm. His fingerprints registered themselves on the rim of his window while he allowed the entry of an arcane. Someone, too far from the knowledge of existence had been trying hard to reach him. 

 

Pivoting his body on the stiff arms anchored to the cold Steel of the railing, he successfully attempted to get the weight off his feet. He raised his eyes amidst the immediate darkness to find some distant lights. Lights that twinkled on some floor of that city building were at least a few kilometers away. That mere twinkle, with a sign of someone knowingly breathing through the night, made him look over there, alluring him to search for some life. The rays of someone's sleepless bulbs managed to pull up glitter in his dry eyes, which were now harvesting moisture from the air!

 

It took a few hours and many minutes for the number of distant lights to go off one by one. Working the customs out in descending order.

 

Each time he lost evidence of life to the ruthless slaughter mastered by dead-sleep, far off, very far off, he continued to count his companions of glitter-works losing their shine... his immediate darkness tried to molest him a bit more. 

 

As the last twinkling light from the city building went off, he again had his weight on his feet, his arms now so fragile, started behaving akin to a thread suspended in free space. As the darkness, the child of the night, the offspring of his fear kept getting over him, he managed to make his body scale a couple of meters into his cabin...

 

The book which had been put to sleep got woken up with a thud, the pages tightly clipped received slaps of his fingers. The fear of night impregnated his heart with a fetus of desperation. Desperation to get some light. Desperation to free himself from the darkness. The baby fed on his blood and courage grew into a monster that wanted nothing but to fight... 

 

Fight whom!? Fight what!? Yet unknown. Forever unknown. 

 

 

His fingers reached his pockets, and they found something, something that they wanted... 

 

Coatings of phosphorus slide against each other as the surrounding saw a flame flickering. Just like a mom who shields the kid while it grows, he too plastered his fingers together to stop of wind from kissing the flame.

 In no time a few pages of the book wailed as the fire rammed over them. 

 

His desperation flew away with the smoke of the burning characters...

 He decided to fight the night with a Mashal of fire!

 They decided to fight the night with a burning book!

 The greatest weapon we could have ever possessed... 

THE "BURNING" BOOK!

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