The book collector - what I've written so far

Mark Penlord was a dreary man. He was utterly devoted to his hobby, which quickly became a dark, passionate obsession. He was willing to do anything to accomplish his goal, even if it meant aberration. His morbid devotion to his books was the reason why he didn't have many friends. His unerring nonchalance certainly wasn't helping with that issue.

The living space looked even duller compared to his impressive library. The rows of books impeccably set on the shelves were the symbol of Mark's grim perseverance. The coffee table in the living room covered with different kinds of papers, from grocery lists to taxes, was the sign of Penlord's feverish searching for something. A small paper leid on the floor. Despite his keener pangs man bent, reaching to it. He looked at it, and the flash of anguish appeared on his face. It reminded him of the time he tried to swindle destiny.

The small paper was a photo. A young woman was looking from it. Her fragile features contrasted with her sharp, piercing green eyes. The black delicate, silk-like curls framed her face. Next to this cherry-lipped woman stood a tall man with a black homburg on his head. His facial features were strong. Sharp jawline, concave nose and blue eyes made man's face very plausible to look at. Mark Penlord was an attractive man in his youth.

At that time collecting first copies of the books, was just a hobby of his. But he did something truly cruel and unforgivable. He killed a man to get the first copy of "Les Miserables". This ignominorty act caused his beloved green-eyed Bethy to leave him. That night he has lost everything.