Activity

I look up from the uppermost book in my stack of books, attention caught by something I can’t quite place. I listen, waiting.

Voices, outside the door. I have, once again, managed to lose track of time again, and in the process, also managed to wind my way back to the front of the warm, hardwood shelved library. They’re also still looking for the library, from the sounds of it. Still? How much time has it been since I slipped out to answer my pressing questions? No wonder folks at home think I’m disconnected from their conversations!

I shift my heap of research to one arm before reaching for the door. I tug it open. “Ah, not meaning to eavesdrop at all, but did I hear you’re looking for the library?”