The boy who was born in a book

On a grey Monday morning, with a hat on his head and an umbrella in his hand, a step ahead, another step in front of it, he was walking on the cobbled streets of his town. He pulled his sleeve back, his iWatch 2 showed him that in approximately 7 and 3/4 minutes he would reach the only pub for his kind of people, it also told him that his usual sun-lit seat was ready with his usual order – warm brown coffee and honey-laced waffles. He raised his eyes and smiled a little, he had never thought he would marvel at the wonders of technology.

Magic is lagging behind our times, a tall red-haired man joined him. We need to improvise, just like they did in Episode VII. 

Indeed, our boy-hero nodded.

They walked into the pub. Fewer heads noticed them these days than they did a few years ago, both in pages and in person. Mobiles had worked their ju ju well on humans, even the special ones.

Old men that they were now, they wished the ones they liked and no more. After the customary morning greetings they took their seats in the only sun-lit spot in the pub, saving the world had its benefits.

Nothing like a warm cup of brown coffee on a grey rainy Monday morning, said the red-haired man.

There is something like it, said our boy-hero, in fact something a little better. 

His friend cocked an eye-brow and then broke into his goofy smile, right, right, of course. 

One of the good things in their lives, apart from the warm brown coffee on a grey rainy morning, was the books placed in front of them. They went in print in ’97 and now in ’16, 19 years on, after getting their careers sorted and their children in school, they could finally sit down to read the story of their lives. 

harry potter teaser.jpg

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Author: pecsbowen

reader.philosopher.writer

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