The Lonely Book

Over time, Alice forgot about the book. Through she never really stopped loving it, it was replaced in her thoughts by other books, like a particularly sweet one about a sea horse and her sea home, and another mysterious one about ice, snow, and glass.

Meanwhile, at the library, volunteers occasionally came down to the basement to the books or bring them new companions. Sometimes a volunteer would pick the lonely book up, leaf through its pages and smile, remembering its marvelous toadstool. But the volunteer always put it back down with a sign and left it behind.

The book grew lonelier and lonelier.

Then came a day that the book would remember forever. One morning, it found itself being carried upstairs and placed in the shade of a tree.

The book enjoyed the fresh air. All day long people peered down at it with kind faces, and many children picked it up and turned its pages. Other books were taken away, tucked under people’s arms-good books about all sorts of good things, such as faraway planets and talking dogs.

Still, none was quite as magical as the lonely book. Neither was any as ruined, which might have been why no one took the lonely book home.

As the sky darkened, it started to rain. Volunteers began to pack up the sale. If someone had looked closely at the lonely book’s cover, they would have seen that the girls under the toadstool and started to cry.