Walking in the library. Quite. All the covers of the books are staring at me. I let my finger go over them. Touching with respect. Curious, I move, from book to book.
The book, simple and unmasking nothing of the content.
The book, name and imageless.
Attracted, to the old brown colour.
My breath stops, my hearth bounces and I get a little dizzy. What kind of book does this with me?
Without knowing the content. Without showing anything of his content.
The book, different than the others.
The book, not predictable.
Attracted, to the nothingness.
Surprise me, I whisper. I caress the book. Don’t let me down.
Rietveld Academie Library No: 779.0
November 11th, 2009 at 3:28 pm
I really like the way of writing.
It is almost a Thriller… But, at the climax it stops.
Did the book get you down?
Were you satisfied?
November 11th, 2009 at 10:59 pm
How you describe the book, makes me very curious about what was in the book. And why it was doing what it did to you. Was it some vague memorie from the past? The atmosphere? The feeling of history maybe?
By the way you write it down, you really get into how you felt at that moment.