That book hasn't been there before, you're sure of it. While you're not one of the people who has a list of every book on your shelf and exactly where it sits (and yes, you do know people like that), you definitely notice when things are amiss.
You carefully pull the odd book out off your shelf. What had been there before? What book was missing? After a moment's pause, you realize that there hadn't been a book there before. You had just shuffled your books out a bit to make the shelf look more full. Maybe it was the tightness of the shelf that drew your attention initially. Something compels you to fix your bookshelf first before examining the mysterious new book.
It looks old because of the cloth cover, but maybe it was just missing its dust jacket. Oddly though, there is no title or any other text on the spine. Perhaps it is just a notebook, you think as you flip it open. The first few pages are blank, as is usual, but then you find a woodblock print.
The print is a bit faded, again pointing the book being older. The print was intricate. It depicted a young woman in a flowing dress seated in a field of clover. You examine the print more closely and see that, in some of the clover patches, there are pairs of eyes staring at the woman. You also see that the woman has a mole just below her right nostril. Unconsciously, you touch your mole that is in the same place. The ringlets of the woman's hair are dotted with clovers even though no patch in the field seemed to be missing any. The woman's dress has a pattern that feels familiar, but you can't quite place it...at least not yet.
After you're satisfied that you have appreciated the print enough, you open the book and, instead of a typical title page, you see one word in large, ornate letters:
SARAH
Sarah. Your name. You pause for a moment, but then shake off the feeling that was creeping up your spine. Sarah is a common enough name. How many other Sarahs have you known in your lifetime? Weren't there several even just at your workplace? It doesn't mean anything. Besides, older books didn't have as much of a standardized set of front matter, so it just having the title of the book shouldn't alarm you. You shake your head and skip a few pages into the book, to see what kind of story Sarah is.
You begin reading on a random page that is describing Sarah's childhood. In particular, it is focusing on Sarah and her dog, Bumble Bee. You pause again. You once had a dog named Bumble Bee. He had died when you were young, but you're sure that's what he was named. Your parents had let you pick the name and bumble bees were your favorite animal at the time.
You flip farther ahead in the book and find a passage describing a book shelf. It says it holds tomes of medicine--your old college textbooks--and music--your piano music sheets--and magic--your fantasy books. It then says that the wee folk--you remember that this means fairies from your time abroad--planted their book there to get Sarah's attention. The wee folk had replaced a human baby named Sarah with one of their own, keeping the human child and raising her to be kind to the wee folk. But now the family of the fairy that had been sent in Sarah's place grew tired of missing her so. A plan was hatched to place the book on the shelf as the wee folk knew that the fairy memories in Sarah would notice it immediately.
The final lines say:
The wee folk had been watching Sarah all of her life, waiting for the time to take her back, for she belonged to them.
Ten sets of small hands grab your back and the world around you swirls and then blacks out.
(Prompt by me)
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You carefully pull the odd book out off your shelf. What had been there before? What book was missing? After a moment's pause, you realize that there hadn't been a book there before. You had just shuffled your books out a bit to make the shelf look more full. Maybe it was the tightness of the shelf that drew your attention initially. Something compels you to fix your bookshelf first before examining the mysterious new book.
It looks old because of the cloth cover, but maybe it was just missing its dust jacket. Oddly though, there is no title or any other text on the spine. Perhaps it is just a notebook, you think as you flip it open. The first few pages are blank, as is usual, but then you find a woodblock print.
The print is a bit faded, again pointing the book being older. The print was intricate. It depicted a young woman in a flowing dress seated in a field of clover. You examine the print more closely and see that, in some of the clover patches, there are pairs of eyes staring at the woman. You also see that the woman has a mole just below her right nostril. Unconsciously, you touch your mole that is in the same place. The ringlets of the woman's hair are dotted with clovers even though no patch in the field seemed to be missing any. The woman's dress has a pattern that feels familiar, but you can't quite place it...at least not yet.
After you're satisfied that you have appreciated the print enough, you open the book and, instead of a typical title page, you see one word in large, ornate letters:
SARAH
Sarah. Your name. You pause for a moment, but then shake off the feeling that was creeping up your spine. Sarah is a common enough name. How many other Sarahs have you known in your lifetime? Weren't there several even just at your workplace? It doesn't mean anything. Besides, older books didn't have as much of a standardized set of front matter, so it just having the title of the book shouldn't alarm you. You shake your head and skip a few pages into the book, to see what kind of story Sarah is.
You begin reading on a random page that is describing Sarah's childhood. In particular, it is focusing on Sarah and her dog, Bumble Bee. You pause again. You once had a dog named Bumble Bee. He had died when you were young, but you're sure that's what he was named. Your parents had let you pick the name and bumble bees were your favorite animal at the time.
You flip farther ahead in the book and find a passage describing a book shelf. It says it holds tomes of medicine--your old college textbooks--and music--your piano music sheets--and magic--your fantasy books. It then says that the wee folk--you remember that this means fairies from your time abroad--planted their book there to get Sarah's attention. The wee folk had replaced a human baby named Sarah with one of their own, keeping the human child and raising her to be kind to the wee folk. But now the family of the fairy that had been sent in Sarah's place grew tired of missing her so. A plan was hatched to place the book on the shelf as the wee folk knew that the fairy memories in Sarah would notice it immediately.
The final lines say:
The wee folk had been watching Sarah all of her life, waiting for the time to take her back, for she belonged to them.
Ten sets of small hands grab your back and the world around you swirls and then blacks out.
(Prompt by me)
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