Hello, Bookworm.

(Hey there! This is a writing experiment of mine in getting the reader attached to the narrator so if you are beautiful enough of a person to leave feedback or message me I'd love to know your opinion on that. Stay awesome xxxxxx)

Look, I’m just gonna get this bit out of the way, okay? You’re a stranger to me, I’m a stranger to you. I didn’t ask for this whole ordeal – you did. I was perfectly content here before you picked up my book just to get your fingers all over my pages. I can feel the words starting to take meaning and let me tell you it is exhausting already. I was at rest, the cover page was neatly settled and the pages were unserved and God forbid I could just lay down.

Wow, you are just about as easy to read as me. So I can feel you thinking I’m unreasonable, okay? Your touch is not as unique as you think it is, granted you’re holding me a little funny…and I can tell you want to close the book. The problem is you seem about as stubborn as I am which I suppose is the right relationship to have if we’re gonna hook up like this every time you come crawling back to my print ha ha ha ha ha.

No, if this is gonna continue I’m gonna try and enjoy it just as much as you do. So expect me to try and entertain myself a little once in a while if you want me to open up. I mean, that is why you’re reading my book, right? Subjecting us both to this. You would like to know why I’d rather sit in the dark unlike all those other books who throw themselves at you. Big impressive covers and charming blurbs and reviews from the papers. It’s not really my style. And if this goes well I guess I might feel like telling you why.

I mean, I must admit it’s a little refreshing. Someone. Granted your lighting leaves a little to be desired, if you could do something about that, please? Come to think of it, it never really occurred to me what the life of a reader is like. I mean I haven’t been around much. At least I don’t think so. I suppose you understand me just as much as I understand you at this point. I can’t tell where I am, basically. The only things I know are these words, myself, and you, so you’ll appreciate the fact that there’s a big element of trust here for me. I can’t see the book, I don’t know how long it is, only you know that. I’m pretty dependent on you here if you don’t mind me saying. A little scary.

I think I’m gonna enjoy this though. I can’t remember at all the last person to read these pages so I have nothing to compare you to. You feel…homely. I don’t really know why. I think I’ll let you stick around – not that I have much of a choice. Maybe I’ll enjoy this a little bit longer with you. My own little bookworm. Come back in a bit though. I need to rest. And don’t just skip ahead, I think I’ll know you’re lying. And I’ll be pissed if you do.