A Book. . .

He was a creepy story hidden behind the cover, pretty enjoyable though annoying, adorning the pages with messy stories. An unreadable book filled with miseries.
Once a girl came, she tried to candid his cover. She succeeds in reading him, she sparkled some pages with the glow of her love. His book was a kind of venom, she fields it with love.
She made his monotonous book, a fairy tell.
Glowing his book she reached the creepy, annoying though lovable part and there she found the book ugly. Before reaching the last chapter of his book she left him rotten, unfolding his life in a new sort, fetching his happiness given by herself.
In some ways, she changed the last chapter and made it tragic. First, it was sorrow but she made it bliss. And while leaving, she made his story tantrum, tormenting, full of silence, messy than before.
He was a book written in the letters which were amorphous. She made them decipherable and left open for all.
But she scratched his cover so well and left him crushed. He is now readable to all, but with a crushed scrappy cover.
Now, who will pick a book with this kind of cover?
If you didn’t like the story, just read it once again with a slit change.
Put a girl on boy’s place and boy on girl’s place. #strange

Advertisements

10 thoughts on “A Book. . .

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s