The Book

The book was thick and black and covered with dust. Its boards were bowed and creaking when I opened it. Little did I realize at the time how opening that book would change my life forever. The dust scattered when I turned the first page and as I began to read the room around me receded. The story was beautiful and sad and I cried. When I looked up from the pages the room was bathed in the glowing light of sunset. I had read for hours and it had felt like minutes. I went downstairs and found something to eat, but my mind kept going back to that sad, beautiful story. I wanted to read it again and again. So that is what I did . I put my untouched meal aside and I picked up the book. I read for days. Not eating, not moving. It was only after they put me here that I realized what I had done. I had eaten my own hand because I could not get up from that book. I am not sure what happened to that book after the mailman found me and they brought me here. I hope it was burned to ashes but I fear that it was not. That book ruined my life, but if I could find it I know that I would read it over and over and over again.