The Readers

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It wasn’t that late when we got to the hotel. I suppose we could have gone into town for dinner, but it had been a long, long day, a long long journey and all we wanted to do was relax. The holiday could start tomorrow.

“Are you still doing food?” Stephanie asked the receptionist.
“Of course, madam,” He smiled, “the restaurant is open until nine. It’s just through there.” He pointed towards the double doors.

“Thank you,” I said and lifted the case.

“Fourth floor, room 405.” The receptionist reminded us. Steph led the way.

We dropped our bags in the room and headed straight down to eat. But those double doors, the doors to the restaurant, the innocent looking doors that the receptionist had pointed out just moments ago, were not quite as innocent as they looked. They were portals to a different dimension.

What lay behind them looked like a normal restaurant, tables, chairs, menus and bored looking waiting staff. It was crowded too, only one free table for us. But instead of the usual, clanking of cutlery and the hubbub of people eating, and the blare of streamed entertainment, there was silence, stone cold silence. It was like a library, in more ways than one.

Every diner, every single one of them, was reading, and I don’t mean staring at their mobile phones or tablets, I mean reading real books. The couples, the children, the lone travellers, everyone had their nose stuffed in between pages as they shovelled food between their lips.

Being older than Steph, I’d seen this kind of thing before, but for Steph it was like something out of an old movie. She’d heard about books of course, but she’d never seen one. She told me once she’d read Bridget Jones on an old Kindle that she’d found, but other than that she’d never read a book in her life.

“Close your mouth,” I whispered as we headed for our table. “You’re staring.”

“I can’t believe it,” she said.

“Just ignore it. Keep your head down and avoid eye-contact.”

We’d both heard of the ‘readers’, but neither of us had seen them before and I guess both of us had doubted their existence. I mean who would bother risking their life and limb, not to mention the safety of their loved ones, just so they could do something boring like reading a book? Well, we had the answer to that right in front of us.

The weird thing was, they looked like normal people, there wasn’t a cardigan in sight and only about half of them wore glasses. They were anything from eight to eighty-five and they looked, well, happy I suppose.

We read the menu feeling slightly self-conscious. We were planning on watching the latest episode of Thrones as we ate, but if no one else was watching their shows, ours would really stand out. Could we get through dinner with no entertainment?
I’d just ordered the steak and Steph the salmon when those double doors swung open.  

“Put the books down!”

I looked around to see three uniformed cops and one guy who looked a lot like an ABPD, the feared secret police. It was he who spoke.

“Every one against the wall,” he said. The ‘readers’ stood up and shuffled over to the wall that the man was pointing at. They looked resigned to their fate; you takes the gamble, you pays the price.  Steph and I sat there awaiting our food.

“I said everyone,” the ABPD guy took a step towards us.

“But we’re…” I said.

“Everyone,” he repeated, and two of the uniforms towered over us.

I looked around, looking for the waiting staff or the receptionist to come to our aid, confirm we were not part of the group. But the hotel personnel had completely disappeared.

“I haven’t got all day.”

Steph and I got up and joined the readers.

“Take them away.” ABPD said.

“We just wanted something to eat,” I said, but my protests fell on deaf ears.  

P.S. I know there are some holes in this story, if reading is so illegal why are they doing it in a public place :-)