A Floating Book

As you approach it, song birds play above, chittering and chattering about the new visitor below. The tender grass snaps softly under foot and the ground recoils as you lift your feet. This would seem odd if you weren't so focused on the lush red leather volume floating in front of you. Your fingers graze the spine and the other hand reaches under to support it. The edges, so clean, so soft and worn. From the bottom and up, you caress the cover.

Finally set upon opening it, the spine cracking as the cover lifts, the ground starts to swallow you and the book becomes heavy. Quicksand slowly crawls up your leg as you sink. The spell of the book sets heavy on your senses, delaying your panicked reaction. Too late. The book drops as your arm pits are tickled by the blades of grass.

You sink fully down, but the world is not muffled. There is no taste of grit between your teeth. There is a chill, the sound of water dripping. And then, a voice calls out. It says...

The End

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