Roald Dahl Rocks My Socks.

Once, there were 2 little girls who decided to spend some time at a bookstore. They were sisters. One sister was little in height but not in age. The other sister was little in age, but not in height.

It was an enormous bookstore, filled with racks of books that went on forever, drowned in the never-ending sea of people made from all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colours.

As the sisters were glancing and browsing about at the mind-boggling number of books on display, they chanced upon a table. They had passed by a few other tables like this before. These tables were used to promote the many works of an author of the bookstore’s choice.


Amalkanlah Sifat Suka Membaca!

The particular table that the sisters chanced upon was covered in a pastel satin cloth (more to hide the messy piles of books stocked underneath the table than aesthetic purposes), and on top of it, a whole mountain of books. Thin. Thick. Hardcovers. Paperbacks. Boxed gift sets. Special editions. Every book cover was gaily illustrated in bright happy coloured pictures of simple, but oddly drawn images of people and animals which are no doubt the main characters of the book.

It was promoting the works of the sister’s (the one who was little in height) favourite childhood author. Memories of her childhood flooded her heart. The other sister looked at her funny because her sister had a funny look on her face.

Above the table hung numerous, round, Styrofoam cut outs which were plainly decorated with simple but oddly drawn images of people and balloons on it, just like on the book covers. Beside the table there was a large poster. It wrote that the bookstore was offering free button badges to people who bought a book from that author of that display table. Just one book, any book at all, but only from that author.


Happy Birthday RD!

It wasn’t just any free button badge. It was a commemoration button badge in celebration of that author. 13 September was the author’s day, it printed, in an all-too-familiar scrawl. The badge itself was plainly decorated with simple but oddly drawn images of people and balloons on it.

The sister who had the funny look on her face finally decided that she HAD to buy a book from that table! So what if 13 September had come and gone? So what if she was already 26? She didn’t care! He was her favourite writer! She grew up reading most of his books! It was a FREE BUTTON BADGE DAMNIT!

So she bought the book, redeemed the badge and she was happy!

Oh the joy which are derived from such simple things!


Mine. My only. My precious.

The end.