saberisking (saberisking) wrote in clockwork_rp, @ 2008-05-11 16:00:00 |
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Taking a book from the shelf, the pages old and yellow with age. The smell of must came from the pages, the cover torn and tattered, ripped pages and bent in binding. Running a hand over the dusty title it read “The Story of the King.” in once golden print on the front cover, but the binding name had been scratched off, only white markings were left. The clank of her metal arm was a bit of the disturbance to whoever else was in the library at the given moment, she opened the book standing there, eyes dancing over the pages, taking in each word, a small and hardly noticeable smile took her lips. “Much better then I he was. Much better then I.” she couldn’t help but whisper. Sitting down, she continued to read the story of her lost world, wondering about the other worlds of the other people there too. We’re they written down in books? We’re they kept like hers? She wanted to ask someone, but she didn’t see any one around at the moment.