Day crept above, sun glowing brilliantly in the blue sky scattering warmth throughout the region. Thick puddles drenched the land, water hung in trees gradually running down to the ground. A storm passed beyond a bustling small town of only a few hundred. Trees lined the streets with lamp posts, old world houses mixed with newer, some with plastic siding and others straight up wood. Tar streets lay surrounded by white concrete sidewalks that were surrounded in turn by grass. Many were on the move including a blue dressed mailman stationed by a box, a bag filling to the brim with letters.
Towards the middle of town there stood an old brick building with a large wooden door, large glass windows, and a sign reading Emerton Library. Inside were many bookshelves, all lined with books; tables spread out across the middle and by the windows, chairs around each table, and a front desk with a woman sitting at it. Her hair long and black, her eyes bright lit green, her eyes staring down at the pages of a book with one hand upon it and in another hand an ink stamper.
She sat at this desk with a radio on a shelf behind, playing the end of a song that sounded right out of the eighties. Above this radio sat a sign with the text Music Is Acceptable Here. A smile spread upon her face as her stamper went down on the back of a book, punching ink onto a card that was then slipped back into a plastic sleeve, “Well this just won’t do, overdo by a week. Going to have to make a note of that.”
An old bell rang by the door as the clank of the knob was heard, the door being pushed open brushing the bell as it hung from the ceiling. The woman at the desk looked up and quickly smiled bigger, “Ah Elise, good to see you back in town.”
Elise walked in the door with three books in hand, “Good to be back and out of my home again,” was her response as she walked forward, the door shutting behind her brushing the bell again.
She slowly approached the front desk looking up and down the rows of books with a slight smile. She stopped at the desk and placed the books down, looking to the woman sitting on the other side, “I can’t even tell you how good it feels to get out of there again Miss Holly.”
“Heh heh, I’m sure of that. Family can be such a pain at times,” Holly spoke as she spun her chair around to the radio, free hand outstretched to a nob.
With a twist she began turning it down a slight bit to make conversation easier. Once done she spun back around and placed the ink stamper back on its pad. Her hands folded, her elbows resting upon the desk, and her chin resting upon the hands, “A father so dense and a mother so clueless. So, what can I do you for this time?”
“I’m only here to return these and get a couple more for the month.”
“Ah right right, I suppose. So what did you think of Martin Trainworth?”
“Interesting. Different from the science fiction books I’m so accustomed to; though still superior to those princess stories I read that one time by, uh, oh man I can’t remember.”
“Well that’s fine. If you’re interested in more science fiction might I recommend Isiah Avacados or perhaps some Mariah Shores? Oh, we also recently got in a new Emeelia Norland novel.”
“Actually I was thinking about maybe some normal fantasy.”
“Ah fantasy, those are some good ones. Young Adult, New Adult, Middle Grade, or-”
“Young Adult is fine.”
“Ah darn, I was hoping to introduce you to this one about magic that’s super popular. Thing is that it isn’t Young Adult though but it’s still super good.”
“Maybe next time though trust me Miss Holly. I want to sorta slide into the genre before I read something totally crazy.”
“Fair enough I suppose; though I personally would find it cooler to dive in and be completely bewildered at something new. But hey, to each their own.”
“Eh, I don’t know. I like being able to compare things.”
“Oh man, sometimes you young people I just, oh I don’t get it. I can’t comprehend it.”
“Like how I can’t comprehend that old music you keep playing Holly,” came a voice, a male approaching from beyond the book shelves.
“Marve, the eighties were brilliant for music. Put your neck out a little and hear the greatness.”
“Stop being old,” Marve chuckled, quickly disappearing down another aisle as Holly sighed.
Elise let out a slight chuckle as Holly looked back up, “Oh uh, right then, so books. For this particular genre, perhaps, what about-”
“Oh it’s fine Holly. I’ll go by book cover and their description this time, keep a small bit of surprise to everything right?”
“Oh, haha, alright. Well, fantasy is down aisle twelve. I think you’ll like it, truly.”
“It’ll be interesting to read though I’m not sure how I’ll feel. I prefer something imaginable that’s realistic, not fake but who knows.”
“Fantasy is the imaginable luv, things not real to some that might be true for others. Regardless of what you say all fantasy has to start from something and chances are that it is somewhat realistic.”
“Fair enough. Well I’ll still give it a try. It can’t be that bad, unlike that one thing you swore up and down would be the best thing ever.”
“Hahaha,” Holly laughed waving a paper fan at her face for but a moment before placing it over her mouth, “Oh that. Well you’ve got me there.”
“Yeah I gu- hey where did that fan come from?”
Holly lowered it, a smile spread across her face, “Well, either way. Thank you for stopping by again Elise. When you’re ready I’ll check you out. I’m sure you’ll be busy for awhile since you’re here.”
“Right. Well, thanks again Miss Holly.”
Elise turned, walking towards aisle twelve as it was labeled above, looking around and as she went down aisle twelve. Holly let out a sigh having been smiling until that point, “Well, she definitely resembles how her father used to be and yet she’s far more gentle. I wonder how much longer she’ll continue on this way. Hmm, I suppose I won’t truly know that. Heh, though on another note, I wonder how that old coot friend of mine is doing? Hopefully doing alright.”
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