Book Chatter--Book Friend

She spies the newcomer from her chalk-board shroud—who can her mistress have invited in—invited into their private sanctuary? He is a dashing, dapper ‘Royal’—a size to match her own with shiny gloss finish and a racy title in bold hand-strike. She has no time to shrink into any shadow; her mistress lays him right beside her, under the covers, no less! How forward is that? But she is quietly thrilled; it is about time she had a new friend—and a literary friend to boot. She spends her time in hiding—no family can know of her existence for she is an illicit, secret treat. Crisp cotton and damson silk wrap her dense identity. She makes her dusk and dawn appearances in silence; her mistress plucking morsels to post on line. Yes, she is to be shared, but not by immediate family and friends. Her tale is too shocking—too raw.

She is bold—turning to face his brazen humility—his honest simplicity decorated by language that draws her in—into a private conversation she is delighted to share. He lies in complete contrast beside her; light/dark; gloss/matt; photo/chalk drawing—and yet—there is a strong connection for together they bare their souls to the world; moments so precious between the covers.

His paper a slightly darker cream than hers—but the print is larger. Her pages thicker in number—392 to be exact-- but she has no pictures to compare, although she has The Craftsman who scatters spiritual gems throughout the chapters.

Would he like her tale? She is unsure—'The Celestial Sea' favours the feminine, although a male hand features throughout. “Come to me,” she dares whisper into the dawn. “Come to me for I am forlorn and need to share your tender pen strokes.” And so her mistress fans the pages of both books, interlinking them before she has a moment to object. Well—what can she say? She will have to face him now.