Description
Cornelius hears his bell jingle. Who could that be at this hour? He stands, stretches his arms above his head and walks to his door. The bell jingles, impatient now, until he opens his glossy door. In the pouring rain stands a drenched girl. Her breast length, chestnut hair lays against her loose plaid shirt and underneath her clingy white shirt is nearly see through. Cornelius blushes crimson. Her faded and holey blue jeans look almost black. She shifts her weight. Her classic Converse squeak on his rock path. Her big brown eyes grow wide and her pink lips part in a soft gasp. "It's you! It's really you!" Cornelius stares at the strangely dressed girl with curiosity. "Do I know you?" "Ye-well, well no. But I know you! I know all about you Cornelius Grant. You see, where I come from we have books. And this man invented a machine so we can go into them. I came to yours to save you." "Save me?" Cornelius asks with a scrunch of his brows. "From what?" "From your not-so-happy ever after."
The Book Traveler
