Secret Passage in Library - 9/28

[Bridget O' Brady]

The library usually bored most people to death. Not me. I loved running my finger down the spine of each book as I chose the one I wanted most. For some reason that lonely spring day lead me to the oldest part of the library. Old dusty books that hadn't been checked out for ages. One caught my eye though. It was a particularly fat book with no title on the spine. I pulled the old book out and the bookcase swung open on hidden silver hinges. I looked down the dark tunnel and not a flicker of light flooded from the tunnel but I decided to make my way into it anyway. The old book still in hand I walked into the tunnel and after only a few small steps the bookcase swung closed and fire torches led my way. The tunnel was at least a half a mile long so I didn't know how far I was from the library. The old cobblestones reminded me of an old 17th century street in Europe. Of course, I wasn't in Europe not even a place like it. My town isn't grand enough to be Europe. I reached a door. The door was made of solid wood and it was engraved with three simple lines.
"The one who comes to the ye old doorway,
Must recite the first line,
to bond thyself with the prince's trust.
I opened the old book and read the first line.
"For love is a divine thing but one must be careful of thy own heart." I didn't know what I had just read but the door opened and what unfolded in front of me was a cobblestone street.

[soly]

Sometimes people dream to finding a secret doors and discovering the secrets, that have been kept hidden for a long time, there is an exciting possibility for them, no matter what happen for them.
I am one of them.

[AbbyJ]

Erin walked slowly through the nearly empty library, attempting to find a book to suit her fancy. She’d already picked up "How to be a Princess" for her sister, "Grapenuts of the World" for her slightly odd father, and "Lessons in Karate" for her mum, who had to travel often to the grittier parts of London. But what to choose for herself? She often had trouble choosing books; after she connected with a particular one, it was hard for the next one to measure up. Eventually, she reached the end of the fiction section. She was about to turn away when a book caught her eye. It was Moby Dick, a book she’d heard was beyond boring. But something about it drew her nearer. She picked up the book and leapt backwards. The wall had made a spectacular grinding noise, and was now in the process of separating from the rest of the wall! All she could do was gape as the library wall swung away to reveal a pitch-black hole. The light from the library showed that it was a tunnel. Many others would have balked at the idea of walking into a suspicious, pitch-black tunnel, but Erin was not one to turn down an adventure that was given to her. She stepped confidently into the dark whole, and was immediately hit in the shins.
“Ouch,” she said, stooping to pick up what had hit her. “Ahh-ha!” She said eagerly, discovering that it was a torch. She flicked it on, closed the wall quietly, and proceeded down the tunnel.
Wow, she thought. For a tunnel, this is actually quite nice. And it was. It was covered in soft blue carpet, the edges trimmed with gold fabric. Erin tried to imagine what could be at the end of the tunnel. She predicted it led to the Tower of London, from which many famous escapes had taken place. Or, perhaps it was a large-scale bomb shelter, built in World War II? She was just wondering if she was going to end up in Cornwall when she found a bright white door.
Taking a deep, excited breath, she opened the door.
Bright light flooded onto her, and she could barely take in her sunny surroundings when an impatient voice said, “Oh, it’s about time! Muffins has given the royal dog-walker the slip, the wedding cake’s gone awry-the Queen needs her down time!”
Erin blinked and tried not to panic. “I’m sorry?” She asked disbelievingly, not understanding.
“You should be!” Snapped the man. “The Queen of England is stressed. Now, go! Take her the books! It is your job, after all.”
Too shocked to argue, she did as she told, swallowing her panic at having ended up in what was clearly Buckingham Palace.
She tried to turn to the man as she said, “I’m not sure if you know, but I actually got here through a secret passageway in the Golders Green library? That seems a bit unsafe-.”
“Are you dense? I’ve worked here for ten years. I know all of the royal family’s secret passageways, and I daresay the library is one of our better ones. Lord knows no one these days wants to read ‘Moby Dick….”
He looked sniffily at Erin. “Are you knew, then?”
“Erm, yes, actually, very new,” she said, wondering why he wasn’t the least bit worried that he hadn’t seen her before.
“What’s the Queen reading these days, then?” He asked, as if eager for a bit of gossip.
“Er…'Lessons in Karate?'” Erin said, trying to sound as if that were a normal choice for a Queen.
The unpleasant man blinked. “Interesting choice. And Prince William?”
“'Grapenuts of the World',er, naturally. You know, he’s ordering grapenuts to put in the wedding cake,” she invented.
“Is he?”
“Yes,” Erin said, hoping he didn’t remember that.
“And Miss Middleton? What’s she after?”
Feeling relieved that her sister was obsessed with becoming a part of the royal family, Erin replied confidently, “'How to Be a Princess,' of course.”
“Hm,” the man said, “I’m always interested to know what they’re reading. You can find out lots of things from a library receipt, you know.”
Erin just nodded. All of a sudden, a door burst open, and a Pembroke Welsh Corgi came bolting out, its leash in its mouth.
“Muffins, come back!” Called a frazzled voice, and an exhausted-looking official dashed after it.
Erin smiled, watching the dog scamper away. She’d have an interesting story for her family tonigh

[mokingjay]

So this is becoming a novel, but here is the beginning.

This is, was, my favorite bookstore. I would spend hours here, picking up old books and random, breathing in their dark musty smell, and reading curled in a ball in a dark corner with a cup of cheap tea or Coffee. It isn't a high end store and I usually could live the words of the books I was reading, undisturbed by any living thing, except perhaps one of the many cats that spent their life in the store. I would spend whole afternoons, rainy or otherwise, trapping through the long dark shelves, finding notes written as book marks stuck between the weather and age beaten pages and I could lose my self in tales and adventures of anything I chose. I remember one time, one time I lost myself, lost myself so hard I couldn't get back out.
My Name is Shayna Harris, I'm not dead, exactly, but this is the story of how I died, died, to every one I cared about.
I headed to that Bookstore immediately after school, as I always did on Thursdays. The Library is called Labyrinth Books, it is located only blocks from my house, and on the outside appears very run down. That Library has a magic to it thats hits you like a bomb when you step through the doors. I loved getting hit by that magic and that day was no other.
“Hello Mrs. Gregory.” I said cheerfully pulling my back pack off and depositing it in my usual spot near the front of the store.
“Hello Shayna dear.” Said Mrs. Gregory looking up from her knitting. Mrs. Gregory is, was, a lovely plump old woman with perfect teeth and a very ready smile. I think I have been like a kid to her since her own had moved on and she always light up when I came in. Mrs. Gregory always wore a long flowered dress and an old fashioned apron. She spent her life behind the desk knitting for her grandkids and fussing over her cats. Mrs. Gregory's husband, who preferred to be called Greg, usually sat in chair leaning against a wall near the back of the store, his stiff leg and cane stretched out in front of him. To a new comer at the shop, almost every one except me, he would appear to be asleep. I knew he wasn't though, occasionally I would see him shift his weight and I always saw his eyes darting around, following people and cats, like a conductor watching his cellos.
The store it self was, a lot, but in a word, beautiful. The ceilings were low, the lamps that hung from them were ancient, dim, and dispersed. Sconces along the walls, by the squishy chairs and in brackets along shelves gave a flood of light to a small area once turned on, which only a few of them always were. The floor between the shelves was lined by soft and very old carpets marked by the hundreds of feet that had passed through over the years. Mrs. Gregory had once suggested getting new years. I had protested loudly and even Greg had spoken up, something that rarely happens, and that put a final veto on the matter. The shelves though dark and old were never dusty and they carried in them the worlds in the books that few have ever ventured to. I say this because all of the books are used, very old, and they hold not only the stories written in them but also those of all the people who have owned them before the Gregory's. I loved to explore these stories as much as enjoyed to read the words written there. It's funny how much you can learn about a person from the pages he or she folded down, reread so many times they look see-through and oily, and the vague pencil and pen marks in the margins and in the back covers.
I walked through the dusky shelves and went to find a spot to set up. There were many oddly shaped alcoves in the store. In all of these there were seats. A different amount for every one as the sizes differed greatly. I found one with only one, big plushy winged arm chair with a puff that matched. I put my Tea down on the small table, switched on the light and went to find the book I had all but finished last week.

i have trouble not making all the short stories Novella's

[CreativeHeart75]

It was an unremarkable book yet the title shimmered in the dim light. I hesitated, looking around. There was no one else in the library. Curious, I slowly walked over and touched the spine. The title began to glow a soft purple, shimmering and shifting. At first I was afraid and pulled my hand back but it was as if the book were calling to me. Slowly I reached up again and slid the book from its place on the shelf. Suddenly, I heard a grating, mechanical sound and the entire shelf slid open revealing a long, dark tunnel.

The air was damp and smelled of rotting leaves and earth. The path into the tunnel was packed dirt and looked as if it was well used. Intrigued, I took a torch from the wall. Slowly, carefully I stepped into the tunnel. Roots protruded from the ceiling and spider webs draped down the walls. As I walked along I became aware of soft music. Lilting but quiet, it sounded like someone was playing a violin somewhere beyond.

I made my way quietly down the tunnel, stopping once to look behind me as the door slid shut. As I moved down the path I could see a faint blue glow at the other end, like the light of twilight. As I walked on the music grew louder. Reaching the end of the tunnel I realized I was in a forest. The trees were enormous, the grass a faint blue-green. The light scent of flowers reached my nostrils urging me on. Just beyond I could see a small pond. I could see cattails and grass growing at its edge. There were strange looking flowers and toadstools growing near by. I noticed dragonflies and fireflies gliding over the surface of the clear pool.

Just then a fish jumped and startled me. The music ceased and a squeaky little voice gruffly asked, "Who is it? Who's there?"

Startled, I spun in the direction of the voice and just behind a large willow I saw a little man sitting on a large rock. He was about the size of a small child, wearing a red tunic and brown leather pants. His hair was askew and looked more like a lion's mane than hair.

I jumped, "You scared me! I'm sorry sir, my name is Gretchen."

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry I was in the library and I picked up a book..."

"Well, you shouldn't be here, Queen Ellis won't be happy that another Topper has found our forest again," he stated shaking his head, "I suppose I will just have to take you to town and see what must be done with you."

I wasn't at all sure I wanted to go with the little man, and I was positive that I didn't want to meet his queen.

"Wait just a minute, who are you?" I asked.

"The name's Findler. I patrol these woods and keep watch on the tunnel," he answered.

"Well, I should say if you don't want "Toppers" as you called them coming into the forest then why is there a tunnel leading here?" I questioned.

[pls]

This is almost impossible to read and should be paragraphed; remember, each line of dialogue should be in a separate paragraph.

[CreativeHeart75]