I sat perched along the vintage window sill, legs sprawled before me; in my lap sat a book full of adventure. Everything around me was still. Nothing but the sound of my fingers grazing inked paper, and the light ruffle of the white curtains turning at the thin breeze that flowed through the slightly open window. The window casted colored light onto the inviting pages of the book. Shadows and light danced a waltz across the words. The window’s light was inviting…almost intoxicating. I slid my fingers across the window and watched as it rippled over the invisible twists and turns of the colored glass.
Staring through the window I saw a movie of the life I longed for. As I read the pages of my book the illustrations changed. One morning the window would be coated with dusky blues and lilac grays, as I fought alongside my kingdom in the inevitable war. The following night it was filled with passionate reds and fiery oranges as I slayed through the belly of the beast. Other days it was a calm green. The color sage invited me to sit in the garden surrounded by lush leaves and serendipitous trees. A small stream of blue ran through the rippled window, and the dripping of solemn water against the window pane filled my ears.
I would spend my hours reading every word. I clung onto every letter as the window shifted creating a movie I never wanted to end. On the nights I needed sleep I forced my eyes open. To keep reading. I would blink through the tears to witness the hero fall for the villain, to watch the antagonist fall to his everlasting fate. I hung onto every image the window displayed, wishing it would never go. Nostalgia filled me like a cup of warm tea as the images faded. Anger and sadness casted a shadow over me, but the window whispered my solution.
The words will never fade, my love.
Read.
Picking up the book, I read it over and over again. Yet the image was different each time, every time I read it I wanted more. More colors and more life. For I wish to fly through the mountain kissed skies, to free fall into the viridian green forests. I wish to taste the hum of magic against my skin, to hear the rich laughter of my leaders.
I wish to live within these pages.
With ink kissed fingertips, I found dark rebellion alongside bravery. Between the s’s and u’s I found loyalty and friendship. Strength and character hid behind vowels like e and i. I plucked every comma, adjective, and vowel from the page. Stacking up my stolen goods, I layered the words inside me until I was full and lush. I not only wanted my body full of the never ending excitement I read about, I wanted to fill my soul and my shadow.
The window stared back at me and handed me my wishes. My eyes glazed as the movie played. An array of colors and people found their way onto the mysterious glass bringing imagery and personification to life. I breathed in the air as it poured in through the window against my face, whipping my hair back as if I was riding a horse. I stretched my arms out and allowed myself to feel the rhythmic gallop of the stallion. Poppies dotted the open field as my own black mane flowed behind me.
The window flashed a dull pink as I poured myself into the pages. Reading every word, I absorbed the lives I wished to live.
I would flatten my palms into the window hoping I would fall through it, and into the world of magic and passion. I would rest my forehead along the fiery reds, praying to be one of them. I would close my eyes, turn them into pools of ink, and offer it to the window.
Take it.
And make me a story.
Turn my pain into a villain’s story where I slay the hero. Take my happiness and feed it to the villagers of my kingdom. Grasp my hope and let the mermaids drink from the never ending chalice. Take my bones and break them. Create the spine of the book I wish to read. Break me for the love of literature. Spill my blood onto the cover and emboss the golden letters. Turn my skin into adjectives and consonants. Rip me apart. I will give my muscles, colors, and soul for the infinite love of literature.
