Well, we had planned to head North to spend time with a photographer, but issues with their health and of course the flooding in the Midlands, we changed our plans. We went to the cinema instead – but having booked online we were somewhat surprised to find the entire place locked up and empty.
A sympathetic security guard had wandered over to see why so many people were annoyed, I did feel sorry for him. He did at least contact the office and arrange for us not to be charged parking – which was a good move.
So I may have wandered into a bookshop to buy things with some of the money very generously gifted me yesterday. Book three of Locke & Key, a signed copy of False Value, and a hardbound edition of DCeased have therefore made their way home with me and I’ve been a happy little bookworm.
Oh, and I finally got round to starting on my Jack Crawford cosplay for the Red Dragon Con next month. This has mostly got to the point of trying out different shades of purple shirt and ties as it really is a very simple costume.
So, not the day planned, but nothing like a bit of flexibility to make the day whizz past.
It’s quiet and dark in the library. All the books are asleep. The huge tall windows admit orange sodium lighting from the street, but the double glazing cuts out most of the noise of any traffic that passes. We pause to breathe in the silence.
We gained entrance moments ago through a side door, and walked in the calming gloom past the children’s library. Up three steps, and into the echoing high ceilinged main library where the fiction books rest after a long day.
The carpet is hard-wearing but soft underfoot, recovering from the public’s passing. The balcony of the mezzanine above us casts a shadow that drapes us in this place’s serene quiet. The computers are all switched off, the children’s toys put away. This is a library at sleep, and tolerant of us as we walk through its dreams.
Hardly daring to speak, for fear of breaking the magic of the moment, we walk slowly hand in hand among the shelves. We stop and admire some of the books, others we pass by. Our fingertips graze spines and stroke covers, seeing more as our eyes adapt to our surroundings.
We are book lovers, and in this moment that title has never felt more accurate. Hidden treasures and long-lost friends on these shelves gladden the heart and quicken the pulse.
Titles we’ve only heard of compete with newer acquaintances for our attention, and the murmurs of delight from us both threaten to break the silence. We move faster and faster through the library, up and down stairs, in and out of sections, cautious and yet carefree, gathering our favourites, old and new, until we come to the reading area, and settle down in glorious satiation, snuggling and seeking new joys to come as we glow enough to cast our own light.