I was walking in stacks with my friend
Edward Maya, who was singing one of his songs softly to himself. I
don't think that singing is allowed in a library's stacks, but who
cares? We reached the shelf, and I checked it. Yes, there was no "Q"
book there for Oppenheim. I checked my Obama quality blackberry. Yes,
the book was entitled "The Quest for Winter Sunshine," by
E. Phillips Oppenheim, and it was in stacks in this library. I turned
to my very own personal librarian, who had been trailing behind at a
discreet distance.
"Where is 'The Quest for Winter
Sunshine'?" I queried.
"It is a non-fiction book,"
she responded.
"Where is it?"
"In our new, renovated non fiction
center," she said, pushing open a door in the wall. There was a
plank leading out to a door in the opposite door, with nothing but
air between us and the ground thirty stories below.
"We plan to have this fully wheel
chair accessible, but for now, we apologize for the work in
progress," she said.
Edward Maya looked up.
"You might want to not look down."
"Thank you."
They laid a red carpet over the plank,
which still did not make it much more appealing. I sprang across, and
they followed presently, though I went back to help the librarian
over. We entered the non fiction section, and I walked to the
centerpiece book of the room.
"Shouldn't this be in the fiction
section?" I asked, holding up the book, which was written by me.
"Oh no, it is such an epic book
that we put it in each section of the library as the centerpiece so
that everyone can get to see it."
"Thank you."
"Aren't you going to get the
Oppenheim one you were looking for?"
"Thank you, but I just realized
that I can just borrow a signed copy from my friend, Oppenheim's
Great Great Grandson. Thank you all very much."
And I went off in my personal
hovercraft.
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