Disclaimer: Aw yes, to own JTHM would be an amazing thing..but I don't.
Duhness.
This chapter refers to and quotes the book 'The Prophet' By Cahlil Gibran, which I do not own but it's a great book.
*/*/*
The next morning Nny left the house around ten AM for the bookstore. He'd wanted to leave at 1:00, but he'd figured the store was closed then. So he'd lay staring at the ceiling for some hours (such a fun pastime) until ten and then left. He saw Dragon's Books rising in front of him and opened the jingly door.
He moved silently back into a rack of books and watched Deva at the counter for several minutes. She was reading a book at the time, and looked quite absorbed. He then emerged and walked over to the counter. Deva did not notice his presence, so deeply involved was she in her book.
"Hello Deva," Nny said as he approached her. She jumped and looked up.
"Oh. Hi Johnny," Deva said.
"How are you?" Nny asked, looking at his feet. Deva smiled.
"I'm alright. What about you?" she asked.
Nny shrugged. "Not too bad," he said.
"Can I help you with anything?" Deva asked, closing her book.
Nny tried to think of something he could have come for. "Er...um...do you have..The Prophet?" Nny asked, saying the first book title that came into his head. It was a book he'd been looking for for several years, ever since he'd read it for the first time.
"Yup. We have a some copies left. That's the greatest book," Deva said.
Nny grinned and started to quote a part that he remembered, and his favorite at that. "Ay, it becomes a tamer, and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires. Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron.." he trailed off, forgetting what came next.
"It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh. It makes mock of your sound senses, and lies them in thistledown like fragile vessels. Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning to the funeral," Deva finished grandly.
"So you like that part too, eh?" Nny asked.
"Yes. It's true, you know," Deva said, matter of factly.
"Yes. Somehow I think it is," Nny muttered, gazing off into space.
"I wish I could write like that," Deva said pensively.
"You write?" Nny asked, curious.
"Yes. I've only written three novels in seven years, but someday I'll get them published."
"That's interesting. I haven't known many writers," Nny said.
"Well, you can't really call me a writer, since I'm not all that good."
"I'm sure you're excellent. I don't think I could do any better. What else do you do?" Nny asked.
Deva blushed. "Well...I...it's sort of dumb..don't laugh at me, OK?"
"I won't."
"I like to..write comic strips."
"Really?"
"Yes. About a...some sort of freak bagel with problems. Heh," Deva said sheepishly.
"I write a comic strip too. It's called Happy Noodle Boy," Nny said.
"It sounds funny."
"It's stupid though."
"I'm sure it's not stupid."
"Oh yes, it is."
"You know something Johnny?"
"What?"
"I like you."
"You do?"
"Yes. You're a nice person, you know that?"
"I like you too."
*/*/*
Aww how nice. Another chapter proceeds soon.
-Moonchild
This chapter refers to and quotes the book 'The Prophet' By Cahlil Gibran, which I do not own but it's a great book.
*/*/*
The next morning Nny left the house around ten AM for the bookstore. He'd wanted to leave at 1:00, but he'd figured the store was closed then. So he'd lay staring at the ceiling for some hours (such a fun pastime) until ten and then left. He saw Dragon's Books rising in front of him and opened the jingly door.
He moved silently back into a rack of books and watched Deva at the counter for several minutes. She was reading a book at the time, and looked quite absorbed. He then emerged and walked over to the counter. Deva did not notice his presence, so deeply involved was she in her book.
"Hello Deva," Nny said as he approached her. She jumped and looked up.
"Oh. Hi Johnny," Deva said.
"How are you?" Nny asked, looking at his feet. Deva smiled.
"I'm alright. What about you?" she asked.
Nny shrugged. "Not too bad," he said.
"Can I help you with anything?" Deva asked, closing her book.
Nny tried to think of something he could have come for. "Er...um...do you have..The Prophet?" Nny asked, saying the first book title that came into his head. It was a book he'd been looking for for several years, ever since he'd read it for the first time.
"Yup. We have a some copies left. That's the greatest book," Deva said.
Nny grinned and started to quote a part that he remembered, and his favorite at that. "Ay, it becomes a tamer, and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires. Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron.." he trailed off, forgetting what came next.
"It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh. It makes mock of your sound senses, and lies them in thistledown like fragile vessels. Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning to the funeral," Deva finished grandly.
"So you like that part too, eh?" Nny asked.
"Yes. It's true, you know," Deva said, matter of factly.
"Yes. Somehow I think it is," Nny muttered, gazing off into space.
"I wish I could write like that," Deva said pensively.
"You write?" Nny asked, curious.
"Yes. I've only written three novels in seven years, but someday I'll get them published."
"That's interesting. I haven't known many writers," Nny said.
"Well, you can't really call me a writer, since I'm not all that good."
"I'm sure you're excellent. I don't think I could do any better. What else do you do?" Nny asked.
Deva blushed. "Well...I...it's sort of dumb..don't laugh at me, OK?"
"I won't."
"I like to..write comic strips."
"Really?"
"Yes. About a...some sort of freak bagel with problems. Heh," Deva said sheepishly.
"I write a comic strip too. It's called Happy Noodle Boy," Nny said.
"It sounds funny."
"It's stupid though."
"I'm sure it's not stupid."
"Oh yes, it is."
"You know something Johnny?"
"What?"
"I like you."
"You do?"
"Yes. You're a nice person, you know that?"
"I like you too."
*/*/*
Aww how nice. Another chapter proceeds soon.
-Moonchild
