Went to the library today as usual, normally I would walk the length of the hall, pass the row of computers, turn left, and take the elevator up to the 7th, 8th or 9th floor, but recently I found myself stopping at the 3rd. I don't know what it is that makes me linger there, perhaps it is the light, somehow it feels cozier.
After an hour or two I went down to the ground-floor, and there I saw her. She was just standing there, eyes fixed on the monitor. I was caught off guard again, I wasn't sure if she was her, but I would not forgive myself if I didn't even tap on her shoulder.
She came back to fetch some books which she couldn't find in Spain. And I can't give you a reasonable explanation as to why when I reached the 3rd floor, turn immediately right and walked along the walls of books towards my seat, I picked up an aroma of Spain.
After an hour or two I went down to the ground-floor, and there I saw her. She was just standing there, eyes fixed on the monitor. I was caught off guard again, I wasn't sure if she was her, but I would not forgive myself if I didn't even tap on her shoulder.
She came back to fetch some books which she couldn't find in Spain. And I can't give you a reasonable explanation as to why when I reached the 3rd floor, turn immediately right and walked along the walls of books towards my seat, I picked up an aroma of Spain.
No comments:
Post a Comment