A Little Like Waking by Adam Rex EPUB & PDF

A Little Like Waking by Adam Rex EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

• Status: Available for Free Download
• Author: Adam Rex
• Language: English
• Genre: Contemporary Fantasy Fiction
• Format: PDF / EPUB
• Size: 289 MB
• Price: Free

A BELL RINGS.
Zelda slaps everything on her bedside table until the ringing stops,
finds her glasses (which are fine, despite some light slapping), and rolls
gently back onto her pillow.
Daylight slips in through the drapes.
She’d been dreaming she was drowning. Fun. It wasn’t the water that
worried her, though—in her dream, in that brittle logic dreams have, the
water was her home. It was when she discovered the water had a surface—
and something more beyond—that the cold came in. A cold that had always
been there but she’d never felt before.
There was someone above the surface of the water, wasn’t there?
Holding out their hand. Already she can’t remember who it was. Their face
was foggy. Maybe their face was fog.
It made Zelda anxious and foggy until she woke, but now that fog is
lifting and Zelda smiles as relief warms her body. She doesn’t have to
remember the thing that worried her. She doesn’t need to worry about the
thing she can’t remember. Zelda blinks away the sleep that pricks at her
eyes and stares awhile at her bedroom ceiling.
The morning light casts shadows in the plaster. There are pictures—
like inkblots—in the shadows. She found them when she was young, and
gave them names. Her constellations. Every morning, Zelda studies them
like a sailor. She’s looking to see if she’s where she’s supposed to be.
Now she’s up and yawning. Her house is yellow, sunny. She brushes
out her dark hair and ties it back, changes out of the shirt and shorts she
sleeps in and into the shirt and shorts she runs in.
Dust motes linger in the light overhead as Zelda laces up her running
shoes. She watches them a moment and breathes the day in.
She doesn’t know we’re here. She can’t tell that we’re thinking about
her.
Then she’s out the door. She doesn’t turn to lock it because her running
shorts don’t have a pocket for keys, and besides, in this town, why bother?
Why. Then she’s down the steps to the gate with the creaky hinge, which
she means to fix but never does because it sounds like a cartoon frog.
“MORning,” creaks the gate as it opens, a throaty singsong.
“Good morning, gate,” Zelda answers.
“GOODbye,” says the gate as it closes.
“See you,” Zelda tells it as she jogs away.
She worries sometimes she might be cute.
Here’s what Zelda’s town is like:

Zelda runs.
The air out here is tender and kind. The sun is a blush on her cheeks.
There’s a sympathetic breeze like a hand on the small of her back as her
limbs loosen.

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