Read 100 Books. Live 100 Lives.

Ever wanted to be an astronaut, or discover the New World aboard a 16th Century Merchant ship? Wanted to battle foreign armies, or maybe climb a mountain? Ever wanted to meet a Hobbit or a Mermaid; or know what it feels like to fly? See the inside of a whale, or row a boat with just an owl and a pussycat for company? Ever dreamed of being a crime fighter or a superhero, solving mysteries and murders? Wanted to defend the innocent in a court room, or lay down the law with a Sheriff’s Smith & Wesson in the Old Wild West? Ever dreamed of being a spy, or a Star Ship Trooper? Wondered what it felt like to fall in love, walk the plank, or even die?

Read 100 books. Live 100 lives. Do all this and more. Pick up a book and dive in!

Discover the lives you’ve yet to live.

Discover the power of reading.

Discover books.

Little Spiral

Sometimes getting back to reality is never the same. Nothing ever seems to be where you left it and nobody’s noticed.The world’s moved forward and you feel left behind.

Caught up in a bubble, suspended in time, but now you’ve been popped; burst back into today.

It takes a while to adjust and re-mould your seat but you get there, eventually. And then you start out on the same little spiral that knocked you way out of time in the first place.

Life’s a crazy sort of sanity.

The Dark

When she called his name there was nothing. Nothing but the sound of empty darkness. Now she knew she was alone and she was scared.

Why was it that every time she found herself in a tight spot Todd took it as the perfect opportunity to go and ‘explore’. This time Lyndsey was less than amused. She swore that once she got hold of him she’d give him a piece of her mind, but for the moment she was rather more occupied with pawing her way blindly through the dark.

Lets just go and have a quick peek Lynds. I swear we’ll only be a minute. The words ran through Lyndseys head.

“Yeah right”, she muttered.

Lyndsey stumbled through the blackness. The walls felt damp and warm and the smell of rank water wafted up the passage, clinging to the air.

First Contact

She was by all accounts the perfect stranger. Someone you could watch from a distance, unseen and unnoticed in your attraction and no one was ever the wiser. A perfect figure in the strobe light propped up against the bar, half empty alcopop in hand, chewing on her straw. Not quite the measure of sophistication but still unattainable. Perfect, at least in your mind, from your perspective, but then again you’ll never get close enough to find out otherwise.

She’s just one deafening night’s vision, a small stream of stillness in a swarming packed out room, you don’t need contact; not really, you’re quite content to just watch and (dream.) And then she caught you…

A small eruption of distant laughter accompanied with simultaneous flicking of auburn hair, a flash of two blue charmers and you’re immersed. She caught the glint in your eye and the suggestion at the corner of your lips. She didn’t turn back straight away, neither did she embrace your gaze long enough for her surrounding fans to notice her distracted attentions, but you caught it. Enough to make you twitch, if only slightly. Enough to make you realise you weren’t dead inside after all. And in that insignificant moment, maybe to her just a polite recognition of an onlooker’s wandering eyes, your mind’s a jittery mes.

Abused

She tried to blink, her face still smarting from the blow. Her eyes watered and the warm tears cooled the heat of her cheek. Sara ran her fingers across her face and felt the raised markings of harsh fingertips burning into her. She flinched at the touch and closed her eyes once more. It had been a long night.

Marti stood in the far corner of the room, his left arm raised above his head, palm flat to the wall. His head was bowed to the floor and shrouded in smoke. Every few seconds he took a drag from his cigarette and slowly let the smoke leak out of the sharp corners of his mouth. The room was deadly silent, save for the eerie sound of cigarette smoke.

Sara dared not cry. She dared not breathe.

This is what she wrote.

And so she began to write.

Everything she had ever felt or thought about feeling flowed out of her like water through a stream. And for once it wasn’t hard. It wasn’t hard to say she was in pain. And it wasn’t hard to say she missed her. But most of all it wasn’t hard to say she was in love with her.

Everything she had ever wanted to say to her just spilled out onto the page, no second thought or hesitation holding back the ink.

And it was freedom.

And it was writing that became her escape.

She entered a whole new world of possibilities when the words broke free from her hand. Her pen became her lips and the ink transformed her feeble words into everything she had ever wanted to say.

It was easy.

And for the first time in her life she felt like she was good at something.