The book was amorphous, as much as a book could be. Sometimes it was a fat, yellowed paperback. Sometimes it was large and thin, with glossy pages and large text. Sometimes it wasn't a book at all, as much as a book could be. It was a scroll that had to be handled carefully. It was a clay tablet covered in cuneiform, unless you looked hard enough.
Miraculously, the book always fit into the hands of Robert Heinz. He hadn't yet figured out the physics of the thing, but the book told him not to worry about it, and so Robert did not.
Right now, the book was telling him to cross the street. Robert did it without stopping or looking or listening. His heart didn't waver and his devotion didn't wander, and he kept his nose between the dusty old pages.
Right now, the book was an ancient thing, which smelled of fungus and was written by a monk and bound in some sort of leather. Robert asked the book if it knew that they used to be bound in human leather, books. The book said yes.
Robert asked, "Are you made out of human leather?"
"Right now, something near."
"A chimpanzee?"
The book laughed, as much as a book could laugh. Robert laughed too.
A/N: Something I wrote in response to a prompt somewhere along the lines of "Write about a character who does everything by the book." I had ideas for expanding on this, but I forgot them.
It had something to do with tentacles.
Anyways, as always, feedback is very appreciated.