She stepped out during working hours into a glorious summer afternoon thrilled at this little day adventure. The breeze was just about right balancing the heat optimally to the point where the lake in the middle of the buildings beckoned her for a siesta. She trotted on to accomplish the task she had been planning the whole past week. Everyone had told her she needed to lay her hands on it, they had even suggested to get her copies online. Nowadays things are just a click away on the internet you see. She chose to stick to the original plan anyway. The library was quiet, (ironically) as it is meant to be, and empty, barring a few students scattered about and deep into their reading materials. Summers are holidays time and the campus bears a lonely look during the few months this city gets some heat.
It took a little getting around but libraries had been familiar turf, and coming back to one brought a smile on her face. The musty smell emanating in the room full of neatly stacked books sent her into a tizzy. How can searching for a book in a library ever compare to ordering a new one off the net or even buying one at a bookstore? The cracked edges, yellowing pages, pencilled notes, worn paperbacks.. all the elements that make a book so endearing...all the things a fresher just cannot offer. A book that has passed through so many hands and carries a rich history of its own.
She had it in her hands, her first copy of the series. The smile she now carried was that of a girl in her early teens who had her first brush with reading and knew she had just embarked on a wondrous and life-long journey.
Midnight it was and the first page turned to read 'The Boy Who Lived'.
