I Write In 2018

The Mystery of The Rare Book

It was missing. Allegories Book of Spells was a rare book. It was an old book with leather bindings. To the ordinary person it looked like a regular old dusty cover, but to those of us who knew better, we could see the beauty of it. In the right hands it would sing. If handled indelicately it could singe the tips of your fingers.

When I rapped on Mr. Peabody's door there was no answer. I turned the handle and pushed open the door. Empty. But I could see a faint light glow out from behind a bookshelf that was directly behind his chair. I approached. Feeling drawn to the mystery.

Running my hand along the books’ spines I pulled a few and one did the trick. The bookshelf swung open to reveal a dim passage and a flight of stairs that ran down into the belly of the building. Cautiously I moved into the space and on the second step down the door closed behind me closing me in.

The stairway curled around and around and eventually I found myself in a small dimly lit room. In front of me sat Mr. Peabody his head bent over the pages of the very book I had been looking for.

Without looking up he motioned me closer. There, on the pages before him, was a recipe labelled Elixir of Life.

"Well, you found me out. I dare say you're not surprised."

As he said this he raised his glass then downed a mixture he held. Before my very eyes his grey hair vanished and his wrinkles faded to almost nothing.

"How old?"

"2018. This very day."

“Happy Birthday, sir.”

“Thank you, my lad.”

Words = 291.



Daily Flash Fiction entry ▼

Prompt for 9/8
Write a story that includes a rare book.

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