Post by Chloë Delacroix on Dec 5, 2009 20:56:21 GMT -5
"Is there no pity sitting in the clouds
That sees into the bottom of my grief?"
Ew. Romeo and Juliet. Not one of Chloë's favorite books at all. In fact, the book kind of bored her. It was one of those things that just bothered Chloë. Too predictable, lacking spontaneity. Apparently, the Delacroix thought she was a Book Critic too; however, I highly doubt Shakespeare cares about the opinion of this poor insignificant girl. "O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!" Chloë mumbled to herself with mock enthusiasm before chuckling. Virtually everything about the story was well despised by the girl--but well known. Desperate, she secretly wanted to find more meaning within Shakespeare's words of a tragic romance. It was so fitting of the petite girl's life.
Chloë sat on the floor, in the upstairs of Flourish and Blotts. A random place to spotted but perfect for Chloë's purposes. Surrounded. Surrounded by books piled high similar to a fort. The second floor was usually filled with nonsense and random books that no one ever wanted or bought. Except perhaps this girl.
Her long black hair was pulled into two low pigtails, yet she was still pushing her hair out of her face. It was a habit, almost comforting. Nestled in among the books the Delacroix sat. Sporting her comfy clothes. Dark jeans, a black t shirt with a baggy red flannel shirt hanging over it and worn out chuck taylors. The girl had made the fort when the shopped open and had been sitting in it, paging through books for a few hours now.
"To be awake is to be alive."
The Delacroix yawned casually. Thoreau. Far more interesting, though Chloë's dark eyes were surrounded in deep circles from her tiredness. Books had become her current past time obsession. Something to occupy her mind. She ran her fingers across the spine of Walden before plucking it from the towers of books that surrounded her. To her magical advantage, the book moved without knocking any others down.
Chloë sat the book down on her lap and opened it slowly, flipping through the pages casually. The words on the pages being absorbed in spurts. Snippets here and there. I would rather sit out on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion. She paused, fascinated. The tiny girl's dark eyes ran over the words again, slowly, taking in everything they said at every angle she could possibly imagine. Allowing herself to take in every ounce of potential the book held, she paged through it further--more intently. Reading a paragraph from time to time. Her finger tracing over the words slowly, as if reading was a new thing.
Just like everything else, it too began to lose it's shine. The book laid open on her lap as she returned to reading the titles of the books among her. The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Year with the Yeti, Notable Magical Names of Our Time, Prefects Who Gained Power, Magical Me, Magick Moste Evile... Her reading possibilities were endless, but nothing suited her. The tiny girl huffed in displeasure and leaned back lightly against the piled of books behind her.
That was when an unusual book caught her eye, something worth reading for it's odd topic if nothing else. A Study into the Possibility of Reversing the Actual and Metaphysical Effects of Natural Death, with Particular Regard to the Reintegration of Essence and Matter. Quite the title, no? Magically the book moved from her stack to her lap and Chloë opened it to the first page and began reading it slowly. Giggling at the absurdly fascinating topic.
Haven't these people heard of reincarnation?
