Books come alive and move
Idea given by: Azurien
The day started like any other day in the little house at the forest, where Marcus played with his plastic toys while taking some breakfast on the kitchen’s table. His mother, busy like always, with the mobile phone on one hand answering emails and a bottle of milk on the other hand, had a keen eye on her son, her mobile phone, the coffee she was pouring milk in and the toast that started to turn black on the toaster, like everyday. Marcus’ father worked the whole night on a lab nearby and used to come back home just before the mother and the son used to leave to work and the kindergarden, like always. Both parents had been looking for that old, historic house, far away from the busy city and work. And Marcus loved that house and the nearby forest.
But there was a change that day, when Marcus’ father arrived later than he was used to: they had had a minor accident at the lab and they had to desinfect each worker, as well as all their belongings. The man arrived home and fell asleep on the sofa, without having time and energy for climbing the stairs to reach his own bed.
Marcus came back home with his mother at mid afternoon and, like always, he watched some cartoon shows on the TV. His mother woke up his father and both started preping the dinner while talking about the day.
However, and without anybody noticing it, there was something new, something different, that was going to happen in that house. Something that only Marcus could do.
The TV had a very special movie for the childen that were watching it at that moment, a movie about a little mouse, a mage appretince, who was able to make thousands of brooms dance at his command and with the help of a wand. Marcus stood up, as tall as a 3 year-old can be, and looked for his own wand. And there he found it, a wand shaped like a pen his father brought, unconsciously, from the lab without being desinfected. Marcus, at the sound of muic, started dancing in the room with the wand on one hand and stopped in front of a huge shelving, full of technical books that his parents had in the living room. A perfect target, the little boy seemed to think, because, suddenly, he started waving the pen like an orchestra director, giving quiet orders to those books to come alive and move their pages, dancing freely in the room.
The busy parents, innocent about their firstborn’s actions, must had noticed some kind of danger at some moment of their conversation and, stopping any more chat at the same time and walking towards the living room, they saw an spectacle that, for its enormous and exotic nature, made them unable to decide between fearing it or admiring it. A sudden shout came from Marcus’ mother’s throat, calling his son by his name. The poor boy, scared by that shout interrumpting his child game, started crying, while hundreds of books, that were flying freely through the living room, suddenly fell at once, triggering a rumble that seemed to be made by a stampede of elephants.
Marcus’ father took the pen and, along with his wife that carried on their son, went out straight for the car, to take the wand and the improvised mage to the lab to get them desinfected.A lab that created magic without even having that purpose and a boy that will never remember how he did that feat.