just a little bit more illumination to the space and making the shadows seem that much more pronounced. A couple blinked on and off, as they were deciding whether or not to give up the ghost. Some were out.
I stepped to the closest shelf and saw a plaque fastened to it and I wiped off a layer of dust. It was labeled “Row 1”. I nodded to myself, this was going to be easy. I moved down four rows and wiped off the plaque, then blinked. Umm... “Row 1”. I checked a few more, they were all labeled Row 1.
I chuckled to myself, Harold was so going to pay. He was probably down in the office chuckling still. I sighed and looked down a row and it looked like there was a gap between the wall of shelves at the back. I moved down the row, noting the hundreds of dusty wooden boxes with box numbers apparently burned on the side.
I stopped at one that had its lid ajar, and pulled it down and looked inside out of curiosity. There were some dusty books from the middle of the twentieth century in them. The open lid had let dust into the box. I took a minute to take out all the books and blow the dust off of them and wipe them down the best I could. I put them back into the box, fastened the lid properly, and replaced the box on the shelf.
I reached what I thought was the far wall and looked through the opening to see another set of shelves stretching off to either side. I wiped a plaque and it read “Row 2”. Ah ha! So there were multiple partitions like this! I looked at the dividing shelves and wiped a plaque and it said, “Cross Row 1.”
I grinned and took a moment to explore. There were twists and turns at times. Some rows were dead ends because of crates of books stacked up. It was like a labyrinth! It almost felt like an adventure. I looked at the time on my cell and sighed, I'd have to explore later, it was about time to go home.
I looked at the floor as I walked. Nobody had been up here for a long time. My fresh footprints marred the dust on the floor. I made my way to the next cross row and found an opening and moved through to row 3. I noted a well-worn path in the dust here, then grinned, it must be from Tasha. Again I wondered what her function was here. Was she checking the inventory of the Long Term Storage?
I had to backtrack a couple times to find an unblocked passage the get through to Row 4. Then I got smart and looked at Tasha's path and before I knew it, I was at Row 5. Most of the lights in this row were out and there were no dormer windows on this side of the building.
My pocket vibrated. I pulled out my cell and saw the Archive's number on it. I answered. “What do you want you evil man?”
Harold chuckled and said, “Just seeing if I needed to send out a search party for your dried bones and hire a new student.”
I quipped, “Nobody else would take the job.” Then I assured him, “I just let this place suck me in and I was exploring. I'm at Row 5 now and will be down in a bit.”
I could almost hear his nod over the phone as he said, “Right then. It's closing time. Lock up when you're done Fran?”
I smiled and said, “Sure thing.” This was the first time he was letting me lock up. But then again, Mr. Myong started his shift an hour ago so it wasn't like I was the only one here. I said my goodnight, then hung up and dusted off the cobwebs from a box. 213, okay, I headed north a few rows and checked a box. 761. The next aisle I found box 916 and pulled it off the shelf I could just barely reach.
I set it on the floor and dusted off the lid and popped it open. There were about twenty books in it and I checked the title. After-Blitz, the Autobiography of Lieutenant Fredrick T. Boggs.
I found the brown leather bound book, with the title on the spine and cover, with simple white lettering. It wasn't very old. I flipped to the copyright page after the title page, 1949, first printing.
I sealed the
I stepped to the closest shelf and saw a plaque fastened to it and I wiped off a layer of dust. It was labeled “Row 1”. I nodded to myself, this was going to be easy. I moved down four rows and wiped off the plaque, then blinked. Umm... “Row 1”. I checked a few more, they were all labeled Row 1.
I chuckled to myself, Harold was so going to pay. He was probably down in the office chuckling still. I sighed and looked down a row and it looked like there was a gap between the wall of shelves at the back. I moved down the row, noting the hundreds of dusty wooden boxes with box numbers apparently burned on the side.
I stopped at one that had its lid ajar, and pulled it down and looked inside out of curiosity. There were some dusty books from the middle of the twentieth century in them. The open lid had let dust into the box. I took a minute to take out all the books and blow the dust off of them and wipe them down the best I could. I put them back into the box, fastened the lid properly, and replaced the box on the shelf.
I reached what I thought was the far wall and looked through the opening to see another set of shelves stretching off to either side. I wiped a plaque and it read “Row 2”. Ah ha! So there were multiple partitions like this! I looked at the dividing shelves and wiped a plaque and it said, “Cross Row 1.”
I grinned and took a moment to explore. There were twists and turns at times. Some rows were dead ends because of crates of books stacked up. It was like a labyrinth! It almost felt like an adventure. I looked at the time on my cell and sighed, I'd have to explore later, it was about time to go home.
I looked at the floor as I walked. Nobody had been up here for a long time. My fresh footprints marred the dust on the floor. I made my way to the next cross row and found an opening and moved through to row 3. I noted a well-worn path in the dust here, then grinned, it must be from Tasha. Again I wondered what her function was here. Was she checking the inventory of the Long Term Storage?
I had to backtrack a couple times to find an unblocked passage the get through to Row 4. Then I got smart and looked at Tasha's path and before I knew it, I was at Row 5. Most of the lights in this row were out and there were no dormer windows on this side of the building.
My pocket vibrated. I pulled out my cell and saw the Archive's number on it. I answered. “What do you want you evil man?”
Harold chuckled and said, “Just seeing if I needed to send out a search party for your dried bones and hire a new student.”
I quipped, “Nobody else would take the job.” Then I assured him, “I just let this place suck me in and I was exploring. I'm at Row 5 now and will be down in a bit.”
I could almost hear his nod over the phone as he said, “Right then. It's closing time. Lock up when you're done Fran?”
I smiled and said, “Sure thing.” This was the first time he was letting me lock up. But then again, Mr. Myong started his shift an hour ago so it wasn't like I was the only one here. I said my goodnight, then hung up and dusted off the cobwebs from a box. 213, okay, I headed north a few rows and checked a box. 761. The next aisle I found box 916 and pulled it off the shelf I could just barely reach.
I set it on the floor and dusted off the lid and popped it open. There were about twenty books in it and I checked the title. After-Blitz, the Autobiography of Lieutenant Fredrick T. Boggs.
I found the brown leather bound book, with the title on the spine and cover, with simple white lettering. It wasn't very old. I flipped to the copyright page after the title page, 1949, first printing.
I sealed the
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