The Library

A woman in a striped dress is at the computer across from me. It is a light summer dress. The V shaped stripes meet in the middle of her body. The small straps to the dress share the black and white stripes. Her short hair is up in a pony tail. Her eyes are focused on her the computer. A library computer. She appears to be in her 40s. Under the dress she is wearing black tights on her legs. Getting up she walks around the library. Then sits back down. Her eyes are tired. And he mouth shows a life of hard times. Thin arms end in hands rough with age. Her hands appear older than her face. The woman is back working on the computer. Typing away with her long fingers. Her short hair is blonde. Bangs fall lightly across her forehead. There is no one else for her in the room. Just the project taking all her focus. Her pale skin has a natural beauty. But her neck muscles show tension. And her firm jaw shows a strength developed over time. There are not deep wrinkles on her face. Though she has frown lines, which tell a story of life. Her shoulders are firm. But weak at the same time. You can see her collar bones under the skin. The look on her face is determined. She rests her hands in her lap. The slant of her shoulder softens. Her arms have a fragile beauty. Like a flower. As she looks at the screen a depth is clear in her eyes. Those eyes have seen a lot of things in life. And now they are working on the next problem. Behind those eyes is a mind which has struggled. A mind which may be tired. They are blue. Looking around the room she takes in the people at the library. The square top of the dress frames her shoulders. They are only ever so slightly hunched in. Protective of a heart full of love. Where is this woman going and what are the struggles she faces today. Her dark painted fingers are typing again. Her nails are painted a dark colour. A shade between brown and red. Under the cold surface of her eyes. There is a hint of tenderness. Like someone who works to be hard. But is ready to open up to be soft and caring. All they need is the right moment, the right words. The right person. Does she have the right person in her life? She stretches her long arms, twists her body and gets up from the computer. She is tall for a woman. Putting on her light grey leather jacket she leaves. Her shoes are flats in a shade of gold.

Two other men sit at the table with me now. One is reading the newspaper. The other a magazine. He makes a snoring noise though he is awake. But now he puts the magazines away. The other man’s newspaper crinkles in his hand. The snorer leaves. A newspaper reading man is older. Is wears a dress shirt with a blue and white pattern. He is reading The Wall Street Journal. On the back page is an ad for Samsung phones.

I don’t see the hot librarian here today. It is early in the day for me. The sun hasn’t gone down yet. Due in part to daylight savings time. Outside a bus engine roars as it takes off from the corner. There is a hum and bustle in the library. Books shuffle, papers rustle and people talk softly. A young boy is looking at CDs. After he leaves the librarian comes to put CDs away. And to straighten out others.

The librarian is wearing a Fedora style hat. And a light purple dress shirt with no tie. His sleeves are rolled above his elbows. The hat matches his short cut and young looking face. He is wearing grey slacks. And a black leather belt. He has a bright smile. It beams a friendly energy. While talking to co-workers he crosses his arms.

The older man reading the paper has his phone out. It is makes a quiet clicking noise. Click, click, click as he touches the screen. Now he puts it in his pocket. Picking up the paper he goes back to reading. Someone is scuffing their feet as they walk. A woman with glasses sits at the end of the table.

Her glasses have a leopard patter on the arm. The black dots on a pink background. She wears a light grey sweater. Her pants are dark brown with light stripes. They run down the leg of the pants. Her thin lips are set with focus. But now she turns sideways and stands to leave. She is printing something.

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