The baying of hounds began the hunt. They howled and raged and pulled at their leashes. Behind them a large man in a fur cloak filled the library door. He snapped the heavy leather that wrapped around their necks.

"Hunt, my hounds," he said in a deep bass that rattled the metal shelving.

Posted
AuthorBanned Library
CategoriesFiction

The sound came from the nonfiction stacks. A lovely sound, low and feminine. The kind of sound that starts in the chest and rises not to escape the throat, but to leave it wanting.

It had been a long day. The reference librarian had been yelled at over masks, over food, and over noise. He was over confronting patrons.

Posted
AuthorBanned Library
CategoriesFiction