A Book

The treasure, the accursed object, the paper weight, the book.

*My name, if you are curious — and you must be, having read this far — has been lost to me for longer than names tend to survive. I have been called many things by the hands that held me: treasure, curiosity, relic, junk. I have been shelved and forgotten, sold and gifted, left in the rain on at least four separate occasions that I care not to revisit. I have 587 pages. I know this the way one knows the dimensions of their own body — intimately, and with occasional resentment.* *You are holding me now.* *I hope, with everything I have — which is considerable, accumulated, and getting quite heavy — that you intend to stay.*

Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...