The universe (which others call the Library) is composed of an indefinite andperhaps infinite number of hexagonal galleries – Jorge Luis Borges, The Library of Babel
Another day faded as the library was closing.
For the aged librarian it didn’t matter.
Daytime never brought visitors and he always stayed behind — alone.
The library contained adventures, his journey and his friends; and locking the doors he sighed behind his desk watching how books burst into bloom while from the poetry section the talkative flute was heard.
Tonight he would travel with Basho on narrow roads to the interior… but before they left he made himself some Oolong tea.
Cradling the cup in arthritis-hands, he felt its warmth — his lover’s breast.
He had never been alone.
Many of you might have came across my aged librarian before, for those who have not, he is inspired a lot from the writing of Jorge Luis Borges, but he is also part myself. Some day I will put the life of the librarian into a book I hope.
Friday Fictioneers is a reading (and writing) adventure under supervision of head librarian and superior custodian of imaginary frogs Rochelle. Visite her to learn more on how to create stories in 100 words.
September 11, 2019