“The vampire bible, bound in human skin, written in blood, and full of prophecies that were never wrong. Trouble was, if you read the thing too long, it drove you nuts. Not “I’m having a bad day and feel bitchy” nuts or PMS nuts. “I think I’ll commit felony assault on my friends and rape my boyfriend” nuts.”
However, this was a library unlike any they had ever seen before. It was nothing like his school library, Jonny though, which – on a good day – may contain a couple of books about the agricultural revolution and an encyclopaedia about growing up (with suitably patronizing ‘anatomical’ illustrations, including several pop-up bits).
No, this library was absolutely crammed with magic books. Tall books, zigzag-shaped books, books as small as playing cards; illustrated books, theoretical books; books about billiard balls, books about balloon animals, books about illusions, books about other books, books on books on books about other books; books stacked upright, books stacked sideways, upside-down books, books with fancy tassels – a proper hodgepodge of conjuring books; a dry-stone wall of books, all interlocking perfectly, filling every possible space.
“I stand and hold out my hand. She gives me a skeptical look, but takes it and lets me pull her to her feet. I put my other hand in the air. ‘Bronwyn Rojas, I solemnly swear not to murder you today or at any point in the future. Deal?’
‘You’re ridiculous,’ she mutters, going even redder.
‘It concerns me you’re avoiding a promise not to murder me.”
I hang up and watch the vlog. I see a very upset and clearly emotional me saying things I really mean but I do sound a bit like a teacher. I’m also so involved in what I’m saying that I completely fail to notice Dave, who has slinked up behind me and spotted Grandad’s wading bird calendar lying on the bench.
Dave doesn’t like birds. And she really doesn’t like ringed plovers. Even paper ones.
When she spots the ringed plover, Dave decides to lift herself up on two legs and dance hypnotically from side to side. She’s better that the “Thriller” cat and looks like she’s been trained by the world’s best choreographers. She then starts diving up and down on top of the plover, licking, head-butting it and twizzling her bum on it.