‘It couldn’t be simpler. So: pick something you would have done differently, and I will find you the book. That is to say, the life.’
Nora stared down at The Book of Regrets lying closed on the yellow-brown floor tiles.
She remembered chatting late at night with Dan about his dream of owning a quaint little pub in the country.
His enthusiasm had been infectious, and it had almost become her dream too.
‘I wish I hadn’t left Dan. And that I was still in a relationship with him. I regret us not staying together and working towards that dream.’
‘Is there a life where we are still together?’ ‘Of course,’ said Mrs Elm.
The books in the library began to move again, as though the shelves were conveyor belts.
This time, though, instead of going as slow as a wedding march they moved faster and faster and faster,
until they couldn’t really be seen as individual books at all.
They just whirred by in streams of green. Then, just as suddenly, they stopped.
Mrs Elm crouched down and took a book from the lowest shelf to her left. The book was one of the darker shades of green.
She handed it to Nora. It was a lot lighter than The Book of Regrets, even though it was a similar size.
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