Browsing the Books {O P E N!!!] [IN OTHER WORDS, JOIN ME!]

My white tank top feels sticky and tight as I pull it out from my body to create a cool air pocket against my tan skin. The jeans I chose to wear were definitely a stupid clothing choice and my legs feel like they were slowly suffocating in the light colored denim. I open the door to the large library and the cool air conditioning wraps its gentle arms around me. I inhale deeply and breath the comforting scent of books while the familiar sound of keyboards clicking in the silenced space. I'm not sure what I am looking for, something that I can read and enjoy. But isn't that what everyone looks for in a book? I make my way upstairs to the adult nonfiction section, bypassing the teen section where the books are all cliched fantasies. I step into the rows of books and glance at the titles waiting for one to pop out at me and grab my attention. Eventually I find myself in a section based on drug addicts sad tales and other depressing stories of things the world keeps hidden. I crouch down and pull a book of the shelf, flipping it open, I begin to read where my eyes land on the page in the middle of the third chapter. Immediately, I am drawn in by the pain and brutal reality that evades the majority of society.

[Cori]

000. General works. Nothing to see here. 100. Philosophy. Useless. 200. Religion. He strains his mind to ignore the single book on Louisiana Voodoo. 300.

300. Somewhere in the 300's sits a small girl blocking the way. Alexander ('Alexander', he thinks, 'not Alexis, because that would be weird') adjusts his tie and sighs heavily. There's no way he's going around her, that's beneath him and it's rude of her to block the way as it is. Who does she think she is? Really. Thinks she's special or different (and, he thinks, 'Different, can't she just be normal?'), something to be fixed.

He steps up to the metaphoric plate and swings his metaphoric bat: "Excuse me, but would you mind moving and not taking up the entire row? Other people are also using the library." No accent, right? Plain English? He reviews each word carefully in his head to check for traces of an accent. Being normal is work.

It takes a moment for me to hear the annoyed voice, and still holding my book, focusing on the words on the page, trying not to let them blur through my tears, I stand up. I stick my finger into the pages to mark my place and look at the man. I'm so sorry to block the aisle; I got distracted by this book. Have you read these? I ask, gesturing my hand towards the book shelves I was previously engaged with. They are amazing, I mean the content isn't amazing, it's really depressing, But the way that the authors present this knowledge in this raw way is what's amazing. Here you should check one out! I say enthusiastically, grabbing a red book from the shelf and offering it out to the man.

Alex frowns and pulls his face away from the book, raising his hands. "No, thank you, I'm here for the books on finance," he says, sidestepping her and glancing at the 600s.
For a split second, when she stood, her eyes had looked like stars (stars, right), he thought. They were deep and light and something undeniably cosmic before he had looked away, nervous. It was almost like his eyes before he got his contacts, that shining, otherwordly blue now overlaid in brown. Alex scolded himself internally for thinking about it: cosmic things in human eyes wasn't real, it was cultural programming, it was the result of years of stories about eyes being the window to the soul, it was just the stun you get when you see something pretty.
"If you'll excuse me," he said, taking a few steps down the asile.

Psh, finance is boring. Although it is real life, these books are also real life and they have meat to them. Something intriguing. I say, shoving the book into his chest. Just read a page, it might surprise you. I tell him, looking him straight in the eye. Could he notice something about me? I wasn't acting strange was I? Maybe outwardly friendly, yes. But extraterrestrial, surely not. I shake my head slightly, a thick portion of my red hair tumbling across my vision. I smile shyly and head towards the divine couches next to the window, over looking the river.