Member-only story
The Boy in the Library
You were a rare first edition in a sea of mass market paperbacks.
At first you’re just another passer-by in the lobby. It’s easy enough to look past you — I’m not one for people watching — and I have a date with the hardcovers upstairs. Nothing can dissuade me when there’s the potential of a good book involved.
The elevator hums while I wait. I’m still waiting when you settle into a stance beside me. But I still don’t look over. It’s not polite to stare, after all, and even just a meeting of gazes can do me in some days.
When the elevator finally arrives, I hit the button for the third floor. You take the second. I keep my eyes level, doing anything I can to keep from peeking at the details of yet another stranger.
We reach your floor, and you’re gone — off to an adventure somewhere, I’d like to think, rather than just another errand to tick off an invisible list for the day.
The third floor welcomes me, and I walk through aisles that are as familiar as old friends. My fingertips brush against spine after spine, not settling for a single one till a title or two begin to catch my eye.
By the time I have a small stack, I know it’s time to leave. I have a five-book rule when it comes to the library, and I try to stick to it as much as I…
