PennyBassett Book Preview
Posted: Thu Jul 21, 2016 12:03 pm
Ok, so I've been writing a book and wanted to give you a preview of it to see what you think. So, here it is:
I come to a house. The outline shimmers, as if it was made from gold. Diamonds line the exterior. Large pillars look down at me. The house is large and looks accommodating. I am hungry, though not for food, for I have food. I knock on the flawlessly carved door, and a wilted figure steps through and puts on a crooked smile. She looks up and says, “I have the answers. For I know best.” I stand there confused. "Who are you?" "My friends call me intellect." Intellect. I bow, for intellect is great. People speak of intellect. She suits all who come to her: that is why she is known. "Will you suit me?"
I ask. "I suit all who ask. Fortunately, you have asked." A smile spreads across my face; is this what it is to feel joy? Intellect invites me in. I gladly accept this invitation, expecting to see the best and most beautiful of rooms when I step through the great door. I walk in and my hopes are fulfilled. Silver drapes outline the large window which sits close to the ground on the far end of the lovely room. Cloth of the finest material hangs everywhere, and lie across the wood floor. There are two large chairs, which sit on opposite sides of a low to the ground table. "Sit, sit." Intellect gestures to one of the chairs, and fiscally exhausted, I do sit. Then Intellect runs out of the room as if she were leaping to someone she hadn’t seen in ages. The sight is odd, for just a few moments ago Intellect appeared to be extraordinarily weak, much too weak and old to be moving that quickly, or jumping that high. As I am pondering this, she returns with a great plate of food. There are pies, and cakes and chocolates and wine. “Thank you, but I am not hungry.”
“Aren’t you?” She squeaks, looking into my eyes as if to say, “I have prepared this for you; and now you reject it? Disappointed, she sits too, and when comfortable Intellect asks a question, "What do you want?" I begin to ask for joy but then realize it wiser to ask for something more. Drawing in a breath of confidence I say, "I want to know the truth." Intellect stares at me, looking perplexed and startled. "What truth? No one knows the truth. But I could give you one."
"A truth?" I don’t understand. "Yes!" Intellect laughed weekly. "Why, just look at my collection." She reaches under the table and brings out a box. She opens it and I stand in awe. Her truths are beautiful. "Please, pick one." I look at them all, wondering how I would pick only one. “Each is more beautiful the last.”
“I try my hardest.”
“I don’t know which one to pick,” I say while caressing a particularly attractive truth. “Perhaps you wish to make your own.” This offer sounds pleasant, but hard as well. “How do I make my own?”
“Oh, it’s not difficult. It only takes effort on the part of your brain.” I agree out of curiosity.
I come to a house. The outline shimmers, as if it was made from gold. Diamonds line the exterior. Large pillars look down at me. The house is large and looks accommodating. I am hungry, though not for food, for I have food. I knock on the flawlessly carved door, and a wilted figure steps through and puts on a crooked smile. She looks up and says, “I have the answers. For I know best.” I stand there confused. "Who are you?" "My friends call me intellect." Intellect. I bow, for intellect is great. People speak of intellect. She suits all who come to her: that is why she is known. "Will you suit me?"
I ask. "I suit all who ask. Fortunately, you have asked." A smile spreads across my face; is this what it is to feel joy? Intellect invites me in. I gladly accept this invitation, expecting to see the best and most beautiful of rooms when I step through the great door. I walk in and my hopes are fulfilled. Silver drapes outline the large window which sits close to the ground on the far end of the lovely room. Cloth of the finest material hangs everywhere, and lie across the wood floor. There are two large chairs, which sit on opposite sides of a low to the ground table. "Sit, sit." Intellect gestures to one of the chairs, and fiscally exhausted, I do sit. Then Intellect runs out of the room as if she were leaping to someone she hadn’t seen in ages. The sight is odd, for just a few moments ago Intellect appeared to be extraordinarily weak, much too weak and old to be moving that quickly, or jumping that high. As I am pondering this, she returns with a great plate of food. There are pies, and cakes and chocolates and wine. “Thank you, but I am not hungry.”
“Aren’t you?” She squeaks, looking into my eyes as if to say, “I have prepared this for you; and now you reject it? Disappointed, she sits too, and when comfortable Intellect asks a question, "What do you want?" I begin to ask for joy but then realize it wiser to ask for something more. Drawing in a breath of confidence I say, "I want to know the truth." Intellect stares at me, looking perplexed and startled. "What truth? No one knows the truth. But I could give you one."
"A truth?" I don’t understand. "Yes!" Intellect laughed weekly. "Why, just look at my collection." She reaches under the table and brings out a box. She opens it and I stand in awe. Her truths are beautiful. "Please, pick one." I look at them all, wondering how I would pick only one. “Each is more beautiful the last.”
“I try my hardest.”
“I don’t know which one to pick,” I say while caressing a particularly attractive truth. “Perhaps you wish to make your own.” This offer sounds pleasant, but hard as well. “How do I make my own?”
“Oh, it’s not difficult. It only takes effort on the part of your brain.” I agree out of curiosity.
It seems like something that might happen in a dream. I'd like to read more!