My Potions in the Apocalypse series continues. This one was first posted on my Mastodon account on September 18, 2019.
Before the Mess, before the Dust, Bo’d known nothing about bookbinding.
Then, Bo had been a dabbler in spells, knowing 3 new-age ones that got mostly imagined results. Then, Bo’d been a decent programmer & a tolerable handball player & married.
Now, Bo gathered up newsprint used to wrap ceramics, cut leather from a coat with too many bullet holes to be salvageable & too many memories to try, and carefully trimmed boards from the back of a ruined pressboard bookshelf.
Now, they snuck through checkpoints and slid under barriers, climbed over fences and were very good at the spell that could slow or stop bullets. Now they made ink from walnuts or from berries, once — only once — from blood and often eked out of the backs of broken pens. They cut quills from old tin cans and cat-litter bins. And everywhere they went, they wrote.
Isah, they’d scribe in fading brown, for peace. Teru Isah bena, to calm someone.
They scribed runes carefully and copied each one as many times as they had paper, and then, when they had enough, they bound everything together.
luro, to seal, they wrote on both covers, Tela, to hide, and then they’d leave the completed grimoire with their current host and move on.
At night, copying over all the pages, every time they could find more paper, they whispered Alet, to love, and let their tears thin the ink.
Notes: The words are completely made up. I like the idea of making a book from scavenged things; but then again, I really do like apocalypse ideas. As if you couldn't tell ;-)
Yes, "Bo knows" is a reference to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bo_Knows