Notebook

He closed the notebook with a loud rustling of its pages. Holding it up by the spiral binding, he shook it until all of the pages hung flat and it closed to an acceptable thickness. Then he grabbed it in the middle to hold it together and placed it back on the counter. It looked benign enough sitting there, the faded geometric patterns of green hues labeling it as what it was; a notebook.

But it was nothing even close to ordinary. It had tabs along its side, wide tabs that could be opened in a hurry to any of its subjects. These were what distinguished it from any other notebook sold in countless stores across the world. Perhaps it was not unique, he had no reason to believe that it was, just because he had never heard of something like it before. That was just plain arrogance to believe that he was special enough to assume that he had found something extraordinary.

Along the side were its subjects, each on a tab of its own. The topmost tab was enticing to him. It was labeled Peace. It lived up to its name the first time he opened it. Within its borders was a screen that was as completely functional as a site on his computer. It had an arrow on either side of the screen with a small label to indicate what you were headed towards.

To the left it was images. He found that opening it produced relaxing photos of peace from across the world, geographic sites, cultural sites, people smiling and sitting in groups of colorful regional clothing, and animals, mostly asleep in various poses in their natural environments. Although this may also have been an artificial setting in a zoo somewhere built to appear and serve as real, the peaceful images were of the animal enjoying nothing more than lazing around. It didn’t matter to them one way or another, even if they possibly knew the difference in the first place.

He meant to leave the notebook open to that page while he made his breakfast, but it was a warm day, and without a breeze in the room. That changed when he turned on the small desktop fan to create a little wind through the kitchen. As it swung to the right it caught the corner of the page of the notebook and turned it. Chaos ensued.

The streets of an unknown city appeared. Tall buildings of a whitish stone or mortar climbed the sides of the page like a border. But it wasn’t a stable picture, it jiggled and shook as though the city was in the middle of an earthquake. Instead, it was the camera taking the abuse;  being shaken as a crowd of people ran past it, a flood that parted on either side of it, but jostled it enough to make the image move as though it was being stomped upon continually.

Faces moved into view, then passed along either side, expressions of fear, mouths gaping, eyes widened to their facial limits, the irises surrounded by streaks of brown or red across the sclera. They were eyes that were both panicked and possibly injured, either of which could be causing the flight past the camera lens.

It was a horrible intrusion into the calm beginning of his breakfast but he was caught up in it instantly. He had to find out where all this disorder and fear was happening. He assumed that it was happening in the present time, but had no reason other than instinct to believe this. Either way, his eyes were caught by the severe action of it and he craved more.

Hundreds of faces came and went before the mounted camera was dislodged and began aiming lower, showing the bodies of the same people running past it. He wondered briefly how this camera was able to remain where it was with all this physical abuse rifling past it. The torsos and arms kept flailing as they passed, being bumped and also shoving each another to one side or another.

Suddenly a body caught between two others was forced directly into the camera and nothing could be seen but the off-white robe across the stomach of its occupant. Even the apparently fast speed of the camera couldn’t keep up and became a blur as the body began rising, the person leaping up and over the camera in desperation.

There was a violent shake and then the camera was looking at the tops of heads. Bright scarves wrapped them and fluttered as they passed. A brief opening emerged as the rush of people separated around the base of the camera, likely to avoid the body that hadn’t made a successful leap over it and had ended up sprawled behind it instead. People recognized it was an obstacle and began a parting of the bodies moving hurriedly towards it.

Behind the space of the people several buildings were seen. The tops of them were disappearing in rapidly expanding clouds of brown that could only be explosions. Some had multiple explosions while others collapsed and pushed the cloud of debris outward, descending onto the crowds still beneath them and rushing towards the viewpoint of the camera.

A buzzer sounded and he snapped out of his hypnotic vision. Toasted bread was already sticking out of the top of the toaster. The microwave was alerting him to its completed function. He shook his head and grabbed at the notebook, people still running towards him on the small screen.

He closed the notebook with a loud rustling of its pages. Holding it up by the spiral binding, he shook it until all of the pages hung flat and it closed to an acceptable thickness. Then he grabbed it in the middle to hold it together and placed it back on the counter. It looked benign enough sitting there, the faded geometric patterns of green hues labeling it as what it was; a notebook.

Barbara Blackcinder

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About Barbara Blackcinder

I write mostly for my own joy and release unfortunately, while hoping that it is enjoyable to others. I thank my followers very much and hope I continue to write interesting pieces for them.
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2 Responses to Notebook

  1. Obviously I favor your web-site, however you need to check the particular spelling on a number of of your posts. Several of these are rife along with spelling issues and I think it is very troublesome to see you. On another hand I will surely revisit again!
    The Most Effective

  2. I was an honor reading this for you today at Open Mic 🙂

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