Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, color-coded with dots. From fiction to non-fiction literature arranged in alphabetical order, school textbooks settled on their perspective shelves.
I wanted some time for myself. Just me, a book, and the silent background music of the rain. So can someone explain why on earth is this kid here? After our little encounter in front of the library, he's been popping up from behind shelves here and there. My patience running low. I don't think I can stand his unnecessary comments for another minute. He doesn't even like books.
I try to ignore him once again, slipping into an empty shelf to search for a different book to read. Bound in red leather, cracked and dry with age, the thin volume smells faintly of pipe tobacc
