Like closing the back cover of a book I didn’t want to finish.
But the story was over, nothing left to read. Just the reviews:
“Critics are raving, a masterpiece! Heart-wrenching, suspenseful,
will keep you hooked until the last page.”
A must-read indeed, but I can’t leave us tented on my coffee table forever.
Thick, tattered and worn arms enclose soft, yellowing pages.
Honored, they hold all I’ve loved for so long;
Keep our story safe, I beg.
The smell of a new book wafting to my nose, how can that be?
Nostrils full of nostalgia and tear-stained cheeks -
I’ll keep you safe on my shelf, I whisper.
Maybe we can read it again someday.