Little Boy Tree House
a continuation
A couple of weeks ago, you, Daniel Robbins, wrote a blog. Now it’s time to do something a little different. Now, I believe, it’s time to shake things up. Let’s go on an adventure.
You: What is this? A novel?
No, no, not like that! It’s just a simple story about a boy and his dog.
> You decide to open the pages of the story. You read about the boy and his dog.
The book opens in a small village called Pajar. The sun shines brightly as you walk through the streets. You see children playing outside, and women sitting by their windows sipping tea or coffee. There are also men walking around the town, but they’re mostly looking out for their own safety. They wear suits and ties; some even have their heads covered with hats.
> You flip the pages of the book, intrigued.
Suddenly, you hear a noise from behind you. Turning your head, you see a man wearing a suit standing there. He looks familiar…
“Hello!” he says in English.
> You say “Hey there! I’m Daniel, I was just reading a book about a village called Pajar. What brings you here?”
He smiles and nods, then continues to speak in German.
“I am Daniel, I live here.”
“Oh yes, we’ve met before. Do you want to meet again?”
> You shake the man’s hand and say, “Is there anything I can help you with?”
He shakes your hand firmly.
“Yes, indeed, thank you very much,” he says. “Please come with me.”
The man leads you into a large shop with a big front door. Inside, there is a table filled with books. On top of the table sits a tall, dark-haired woman who wears glasses and has long hair. She holds her hands up in surrender when she sees you.
The man tells you, “I need you to steal these books for me. They were my grandfather’s books.” He then vanished without a trace.
Confused, you decide that you nevertheless must comply with your new mission.
> You say “Give me all your books!”
She doesn’t move.
“Give me everything you have!” you shout.
She turns her head slightly to look at you, but does nothing else. Her eyes remain fixed on the floor.
She slowly moves closer to you, but still remains motionless. She stares at the floor, seemingly lost in thought.
“No!” you shout. “Just give me one book right now!”
She begins to turn her head toward you, but keeps her eyes glued to the ground. She seems so sad and lonely…
> You give in and decide to read a book to her.
You stand up and approach the woman.
“Please, please, let me read one book to you.”
She looks down at the floor once more.
> You start to read the book.
You pick up the book that you were given. It’s a picture book about a little boy named Jack who lives in a treehouse. The title reads: Little Boy Tree House.
> You say “This is a story about Jack, a boy who lived in a treehouse…”
She nods her head in agreement.
“Yes, it is.”
You continue to read the book, which soon becomes quite boring after a while. However, you do find out something interesting about Jack.
Jack loved his toys. He had many stuffed animals and other such things. One day, he found a strange looking toy airplane in the backyard.
It turns out that the toy airplane was an actual airplane that Jack could fly. His parents never knew about this fact, though. They didn’t know what kind of person their son really was.
Eventually, Jack grew older and went to school.
Jack went to aviation college in the hopes of becoming a commercial pilot. He had dreams of flying over the Pacific at day and partying at international hotels by night.
One day, Jack was flying a plane over the ocean. Suddenly, he felt like something wasn’t right. Something was wrong with him. He couldn’t figure out why he suddenly wanted to go home. He kept thinking that maybe he should just stay at the airport and try to land somewhere else.
He decided to return home, but he didn’t realize that there was no way back to the airport.
> You close the book. It is the end of the story, for now.
You put the book away and close it.
“I’m sorry,” she says as if nothing happened. “I can’t listen anymore.”
You look at her again. She has been crying for quite some time now. Her face is pale and her hair is disheveled.
> You decide that unfortunately, no amount of you reading to her will help her. You rob her of her books and leave her with a parting thought, “Live, Laugh, Love,” and make your escape.
You walk away from the bookstore without saying another word.
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