Wednesday, 3 April 2013

Prologue


My name is Carrie Hope Fletcher. I’m 20 years old and have very curly, long, blonde hair and brown eyes. A very rare combination, I know. I love reading and singing. I think there is no bookshop in London that hasn’t seen me yet. I’m currently in Paris and I read about a small antiquary bookshop which I want to visit. I’m sitting in a “metro” (that’s the French subway) that is supposed to get me near that bookshop. I have a print of the way I have to walk from the train-stop to the shop.
It’s quite a pity that the tramway doesn’t cross the city in itself. The subway isn’t such a good touristic, sight-seeing thing. You only see dark tunnels and sometimes a bridge… But at least I’ll reach that bookshop quite easily. I brought my friend Alex with me. Alex Day. He’s quite an unusual guy, very extra-ordinary. He also is my best friend. We met by a quite modern way. Very 21st century. We both make YouTube-videos and one day we started talking on twitter. I myself am quite surprised how good friends we have become, even though we met on the internet.
The metro comes to a halt and a voice in the speakers says something unintelligible, but Alex nudges me saying that this must be our stop. We walk up the stairs to the surface and I take the map out of my bag. It says that we have to walk for three blocks straight forward and then turn right. After that we have to continue for four blocks until we reach a little impasse and that’s where it’s supposed to be.
We walk quite quickly for tourists because I’m really impatient to see that shop. Apparently it’s really quite big, but still very calm.  We pass boutiques and restaurants. Souvenir-shops and some apartment-buildings. If Google maps are right, we have one more block to go and then we should reach the impasse. And of course, there it is. Just a couple more feet to walk. It says “Livres d’occasion et d’autres curiosités” on a low sign at the entrance to the impasse. Right at the end there is a door. It looks a bit like Ollivander’s wand shop from the outside. I push the door open and there is a little bell announcing that someone’s entered.  A small, elderly woman appears from a far corner and greets us in French:
-          Bonjour! Que puis-je faire pour vous?
Alex answers with a short “Bonjour” and I walk towards her, smiling and saying:
-          Bonjour. Je suis Carrie. Nous sommes Anglais. I read about your shop in an article on the newspapers. I was really keen to see it.
-          Ah! I see! Can I ‘elp you? Do you look for anyfing in spécial?
Alex sighed in relief that the woman spoke English. He knows a couple of things in French, but it wouldn’t be enough to have a conversation. I smile and say:
-          No, I don’t. I just wanted to see this and perhaps I might find something interesting. Do you have any English books?
-          Yes. Ve ‘ave a ‘ole section for English books. It is be’ind dat étagère.
She was pointing to a shelf filled with what looked like several collections of encyclopedia in different colors and sizes. Still clutching my map I walk towards it. I’m excited and the smell of old, yellow paper and ink makes the feeling even stronger. I love this smell – who doesn’t?
Just like she said, behind that shelf were nine feet worth of shelves filled with English books: some quite old ones and some newer ones. I could see Harry Potter and Twilight, but also Pride and Prejudice and Gone with the Wind. There were a few books that I didn’t know, such as The Fiery Cross and a thin blue-spined book called Travel through Stories. I pulled out the latter and looked at its cover. It was beautiful. There were loads of references to other stories on it. Mickey Mouse, Aladdin and the Little Red Riding Hood were in the very front, grinning brightly. Behind them I could see Falkor, K-9, the sleeping Beauty, Gollum and many others. I turned it around to read the summary. It said: “Travel through your favorite stories using this book as a guide. Be careful. You mustn’t use it too much and you mustn’t keep it all to yourself. This guide must be shared as it is the only one of its kind.” I was confused about that, because it sounded as if the book was actually giving instructions on how to read other books? Or at least that was what I understood from that mysterious summary. It made me curious though and I thought it could be a funny story to read. It was quite short, so it couldn’t be very expensive. I walked back to the shop-keeper and, showing her the book, said:
-          How much is this?
-          It is five euros. Is dat all?
I nodded, followed her to a little counter and handed her the book as soon as she’d picked up a pen and paper. She wrote the title and the date on it. Then she asked for my full name and added it too. The price and it was complete. Ready for me to sign it.
-          Do you vant me to wrap it?
-          No thank you, I’ll just put it in my bag.
She smiled and handed the book back to me. Alex nodded and we turned to leave the shop. Before we reached the door, she called for me:
-          Mademoiselle Fletcher? Dis book is precious. You ‘ave to take good care of it. Vill you promise it?
I was surprised but nodded and said, completely honestly:
-          I will keep it safe as long as I need to. I promise.
She nodded once more, smiled and said goodbye.
Alex and I took the metro back to our hotel to get ready for Disneyland. It was quite hard not to take the book back out of my bag and read it on the subway. I was curious – very curious. Too curious even, to be excited about Disneyland.


Watch my progress on Camp NaNoWriMo.
=)

2 comments:

  1. Is this place the one in the photo? It looks awesome! What's it called and where is it? I'm headed to Paris would love to check it out :)

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    1. Unfortunately I have no idea where that place really is. It's a stock-photo I got off google. Maybe if you try a reversed image-search you might find somethinbg? Sorry I couldn't help :S

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