You Read Books At Libraries

It was 11am on a Saturday. The hallway here was the foyer that led to the double-pane glass-door library entrance; it was littered with tables and official and informal informational stand-ups about the state of North Dakota and rivers in Uganda. The stand-ups were there because money propped them up. The tables were there because, I don’t know, maybe someone would want to sit down with his half-bottle of Diet Coke and scribble something into his big black notebook? It’s perhaps a sign of the times that that someone would be so willing to leave his notebook unattended. I’d personally be a touch more protective of my ideas.

I sat down at the table, inching away the Diet Coke and breaking open the notebook. I heard a few creaks and cracks as the cover groaned aside. I scanned the pages. I scoffed. So this is why he didn’t care to bother taking care of his notebook; it was just a stupid diary. I shook my head as I leafed through it. Page after page of inanity.

"What do you think you’re doing?" A very firm and forceful female voice, tinged with anger and annoyance, stood above me. "Why are you reading my journal?" She leaned forward slightly. "My private journal?"


"I was, uh, I’m…"

"I’m sure you are." She snatched the journal and the Diet Coke and sauntered out angrily. She was actually kind of hot, especially when she walked like that, all teed off and stuff. I shook my head at myself. Dammit. Right at a library, too. Practically my home turf. I watched her disappear, shook my head again, and turned sideways in the chair so my back was against the wall. I stared out the wall-sized windows that stretched the length of the foyer. There was a lot of foliage outside - it was a greenhouse, as a matter of fact - and staring into the flowers and the man-sized greenery made me feel peaceful, so peaceful that a minute later I had almost forgotten about…

"My notebook!" A man’s voice shrieked from up the hallway. He rushed down the hallway towards me, his black dress shoes clacking against the linoleum."What did you do with my notebook?" He paused for a moment, looking the table over. His eyes widened slightly. "And my Diet Coke!"


"There was this, um, this woman…" I pointed weakly at the door.

He rolled his eyes at me, sighed, threw up his arms. "That had all my ideas in there!" His arms slapped against his side and he glared at me momentarily before he clattered off towards the entryway and out onto the cement parking lot.

I watched him disappear, briefly wondered what resolution there’d be, then turned back to the greenery and forgot about everything.