I left out the years of wandering, the restaurant jobs in resorts and the girl with the ever changing hair. Nobody needed to know what woke me up at night.Read More
"I asked my sister to invite you because I have a proposition for the library, Mr. Harker," Amy said while spearing a cucumber and taking a small bite.
"Amy? What kind of prostitution are you into?" Brenda said.Read More
"Well, that's not good, I said. Brenda's stomps down the stairs echoed through the buildingRead More
Some librarians are born bad. Others are made bad by choice or circumstance.Read More
Our librarian stops the man from burning down the building, but learns his reference librarian has a secret.Read More
The library sat quiet on a Friday morning. The kids were in school, the soccer moms still sipping their coffee at home, and the elderly patrons just leaving after reading the paper and finding their holds. The clock ticked on, matching the click clack of the keys in the computer lab.Read More
Warning, this story features granny on teenager violence.Read More
"I'm ninety-two years old, and I'm gonna live to be a hundred if the deal I made with the devil works out," she told our librarian asking about her life.Read More
"Can you help me on the computer?"
He was a little man with thick glasses and a tweed coat. His voice carried him, this deep rumble from a low place, like well-oiled farm equipment.Read More
The couple came in the library holding hands. He wore a letterman's jacket, a football patch over the school letter. She had her blonde hair back in a ponytail and held her books in one hand. They fit the image as the perfect teen couple, the jock and the cheerleader preparing for the rest of their lives.Read More
"That man over there is sleeping," the woman said. Her finger shook, the little charm bracelet on her wrist jingling.Read More
Placing a hold on a book is a scary endeavour. You don't know when the book is going to show up. It's mostly based on hope. Hope in the system, hope in the library staff, and hope that nobody decides to eat the book. That much hope can only lead to ulcers and visiting your parents on non-holidays.Read More
People are afraid of the dark. Maybe not always the physical, non-light variety, but the empty cold nothing that comes with lack of knowledge.Read More
"Mommy?" the child's sing song, a little low note, came again.
I walked around the desk, hands in pockets, strolling. I was sure I would hear the mother give a reassuring "What?" or "Yes, baby?" When all that came was another "Mommy?" I turned my wander that way.Read More
The circulation desk got cold. Like the top of a refrigerator with a leak kinda cold. I lifted my hand up and wondered what the hell was happening.Read More
"I need a place to play my cassettes," the man said. He had liver spots on his shaking hand, the one that held the box. The box rattled with the gentle plastic.Read More
More shopping carts appeared on the library steps and I got concerned. Three days they stuck around, Walter and Brenda berating them, then they slipped away. I wondered if we had space in the basement for all of them.Read More
"I didn't get my paper this morning. Just checking that things were okay," the old man said into my voicemail.Read More
Back home in the south, we call them "buggies." We also call them "shopping carts," the wire mesh baskets on wheels that live in grocery stores. When one showed up at the library, we knew we had an opportunity.Read More
The director said the bell would stay on the circulation desk. Brenda complained that someone was always there, but the director said the bell would stay. Brenda pouted and stood, arms crossed, glaring at the little metal object.Read More