Once again I am posting my flash fiction piece for March fashionably late (editing is a hassle, let me tell you!). No one ever said that a writer’s life is easy, but I love every part of it anyway 🙂 This little piece below is set in a bookstore in Chicago called Myopic Books. It’s one of my favorite book stores of all times and I miss it a lot. If you’re ever there, go check it out.
Update: You can also find MT’s flash here.
Flash Fiction #03: M for Myopic
Books don’t judge
Some people like books. Others adore them.
And then there is my little sister.
“Quick! They’re not open much longer,” she says.
We hurry toward a store called Myopic Books. A bell rings out as we enter. All walls are lined with shelves, displaying hundreds of books. My sister grabs me by the hand and pulls me through the store.
“This must be one hell of a book,” I say.
“You bet it is.”
We stop in front of a shelf that looks like any other in the store. A label below reads Fantasy/Sci-Fi. My sister pulls a book down and shoves it right under my face.
“Do you see?” she asks. Her eyes are huge.
I stare down at the book. It’s one of the Harry Potter’s, perhaps the first one. “What am I supposed to see?”
“The cover,” my sister says. “It’s limited edition, they only made a few thousand copies.”
“So? You’ve got all of them at home, don’t you?”
“Yes, but not this one!” She tightens her grip on the book until her knuckles turn white. “But I’ve already spent my birthday money and I was wondering…”
I raise an eyebrow. “Seriously, you’re begging me for money to buy a book you already own?”
She groans. “I knew you’d act like that!” She puts the book back and stomps off. I catch up with her right outside the store.
“I’m sorry, okay?” I say. “But, you know, you do spend a lot of time with books. Maybe, just once, you want to go outside and hang out with some other kids…”
Arms crossed in front of her chest, my sister glares at me. “You don’t get it,” she says.
“Then explain it to me.”
She bites her lips. Her eyes shimmer with tears. “It’s just…”
“The other kids are mean,” she says, her lower lip wobbling. “But books would never judge me.” A first tear trickles down her cheeks.
Before she can say anything else, I dash back into the store. They are about to close. But they give me another minute and then I step back out.
My sister hasn’t moved. She looks up with a smile. “You bought it?”
“Of course.” I hand her the book and she hugs it to her chest.
Here’s a little peek a this book store. Apparently I was more focused on the books than taking decent pictures 😉