I know of a book, a poetry book, which I’m very much fond of due to its pretty cover and beatifully written words.
I was in junior high and was a bookworm when I first spotted that book. Although it was being placed in a shelve in a way that no one could possibly noticed it exist, the book soon catch my intention for its worned – look.
Its tiny size match perfectly to my hand. Its cover, dark-brown in color, style in a simple dove-layered jacket, was so far to my taste. A woman, holding a flower and leaned over her head to her shoulder was the image which I found illustrated its front cover.
And the pages, made of light-paper as in paperback ed. It has brown-faded color, making it look classy and at the same time, antique. I can found a small illustration of flower in every corner of the pages. Just a small one, in the tip of the edge in each and every pages.
I use to spent my time standing between bookshelves in the bookstore where they keep that poetry book, unnoticed. I use to ran my fingers trough its sentences, embracing and soaking each and every words as if they were the last I could ever read.
Now, I cannot remember what words was written in there. But I can still remember the feeling I had whenever I let my hand in hold of that book.
Whenever I read a poem from that book, I felt the world surround me was turn into a far defferent universe, where the sky were as blue as can be, where a group of clouds magically forming shapes, where I can feel the wind breeze over, touching my cheeks smoothly and blew away my hair.
I love the sensation so much I came back often to that bookstore and go right away to the same aisle and stand there and soaking my soul deeply into every words that was written there. Those were one of my favorite moments. Moment that I cherish so much.
Until someday, when I do my usually routine walking towards the same aisle I use to stand for hours reading that precisely same book, I found that the item I search for was already gone.
I never again saw that book. I guess, it’s gone forever. But the memory still last.