Uwaaa~~ Okay I'm sorry 1) it took so long for me to write something wow 2) what i wrote is super super short wow 3) i literally didn't include anyone except Fin oh gosh I'm sorry i'll do better.
But yeah!! This is Fin's first post yay!!! Please enjoy~~~
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[~Finian~]
Rarely did people visit the library for very long, but no matter how empty the two-story building was, I could always call it home.
From the tall window on the second floor, I watched the sea as its crystalline waves crashed against the shore, breaking with white foam that lingered atop the sand. The waters were especially tumultuous, and the clouds above were morbidly gray. The sky above seemed to promise rain in the near future.
Delicately, I turned a page.
Footsteps echoed off the curved staircase. A lone raindrop kissed the windowpane—the true storm wouldn’t break for another day or so—and I rose from the cushioned loveseat, tucking a ribbon between the pages before closing the book. Mrs. Honeywell, the head librarian, approached. She pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose and grinned, wrinkling the skin about her eyes.
“I’m meeting some old friends for dinner,” she said, “so I trust you’ll be fine watching over this old place by yourself once your break is over.”
I nodded, containing my excitement. “My pleasure,” I said, beaming. “Enjoy your meal.”
As she began her descent, I lay the book on one of the mismatched tables in the reading area. A few years had passed since I’d showed up at the library, drenched by a recent rain shower, with a suitcase of my belongings and enough money to pay for a month of cheap rent. Mrs. Honeywell had been kind enough to offer me a job, then directed me to the town hall where I was able to sort out my plans.
Three years later, Mrs. Honeywell seemed to view me as trustworthy and reliable, and even if I tried to express my gratitude, I’d end up lying in a blushing puddle of mild flustered embarrassment. She’d pat my head, chuckle, then tell me to get back to work.
Though a sweet old lady she certainly was, she was a stickler for productivity and professionalism. “When on duty,” she once said, “one must never be lax. There’s always work to be done.” She promptly smacked me in the head with a rolled up magazine, nodded, and said, “And don’t you forget it.”
I didn’t mind it much. The library was my refuge. The huge fans on the ceiling propelled the permanent scent of aging paper to all corners of the building, and orderly rows of books complemented the unorganized stacks placed haphazardly on the floor.
Yes, I thought, this place is home.
I peered out the window once more. Night came over the quiet town, but no stars appeared in the cloudy sky. In the far distance, two headlights cut through the darkness, paused for a moment, then continued on their way. As I turned toward the staircase, I couldn’t help but wonder if this bus had delivered yet another fresh soul to our quaint little town.
The town continued to grow. More people came each week, and the new faces were a welcome surprise.
My hand fell upon the white railing as I took a step. I smiled, hopeful.
Though the sky was dark and lights dim, I smiled late into the evening, humming an old lullaby as I thought of new visitors to my beloved library.
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WAAAAh I'm so sorry oh gosh this is like the shortest thing I've ever written but I've written more tonight than I have in literal months so ~woo~ okay goodnight oh gosh
