Log:Library

Library
Participants Kara, Sam, Tock	5 April, 2017 '
Location Town Library
It's mid-afternoon on a Spring afternoon in Vermont. That means it's quiet: children and school groups tend to visit in the morning, along with the occasional stay-at-home wife. When lunch hits, the place empties. And then, after, the only people that come back are those that haven't visited before, or had the opportunity to: those that wake up /after/ the sun is at its zenith. Layabouts and ne'er-do-wells, all of them. There are nooks. There are crannies. Libraries are like English muffins: sort of bland, unless it happens to be your thing, in which case you're probably boring, British, bookish, or all three. It's easy to hide in this library too. Because there are many places to lurk, and few people to lurk in them. Sam is a denizen fot this afternoon. She sits by herself in a hard chair pushed into a corner. No one pays attention to her, and, really, that's to be expected. The misty, spectral Autumn is probably to be avoided, from her appearance -- then again, it's generally wise advice to avoid Autumns. Creepy motherfuckers. In her lap is a large tome of whatever. Probably stories or plays. But it's a large book -- note that. Large. Libraries -are- Tock's thing, and Tock is boring and bookish. (Two out of Three ain't bad!) A lifelong resident, he's now semi-retired and volunteers as the town librarian. He "hmmmmmhmmmHmmmmmhmmmHmmmm" 's to himself very very quietly as he goes about the business of shelving, dusting, arranging, sorting, stamping, and filing, showing a predilection for lingering in the sunnier stretches of the counter as he works, his wire-rimmed spectacles glinting in the afternoon light and his brown tweed houndstooth jacket softly illuminated thereby.