December 3, 2021
Words: Album, Culture
There was a time where a lonely child waited for his mother in a public library. Curious, the child randomly picked a book in one of the lower shelves. The child was fascinated. The book is illuminated unlike any other book. Peculiar it may be, the child loved the book.
He opened the book. Oh how incredible, the pictures moved! Not only that, it was producing sound!
The picture he was watching was a painting of a Japanese folktale called The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. Kaguya-sama, the figure floating in the heavens, shined a blinding light outside the painting. It startled the young boy and dropped the book.
He picked it up and ended up on a different page. There was a creature floating in the air. It had a woman's head and a snake's body. It slithers around the clouds. Until it notices the child's eyes, staring into its world. The creature moved close to the frame. It bared a menacing face. Startling the child once again, he closed the book shut.
The child was distressed, yet he was still fascinated by the book. He called it the magic book.
When he was about to open the book, the child's mother arrived. The mother asked the child to return the book so they could return home to play with toys. Reluctantly, the child returned the book and went home.
Tomorrow came. The child ventured to the library by himself. He went to find the book, excited to watch more intriguing moving pictures. When he arrived at the place he returned it, it was gone.
He asked the librarian. They said that there were no books with moving pictures nor books that produced sound. The child fell into tears, causing a ruckus.
Those were the olden days. I still remember like it was yesterday. Laying in the ground, rolling like a crybaby. That was so embarrassing. I told many people about the book and they reject its existence. People thought I was lying, making up stories, and even called me crazy. I've seen it with my own two eyes. I know it really happened.
I kept on insisting and yet, I can't seem to find the book anywhere. My trip back to this old library was unfruitful.
Glancing at the reception desk, a man in a dark coat caught my attention. On his arms was an illuminating book. It was the same book I was looking for. The man stepped out of the library. I chased him, but he disappeared, alongside the answers to my childhood and my curiosity.