Posts Tagged‘fiction’

The Warning

It was 10:00 before I finally made it back my dorm room, exhausted from an evening of rehearsals and group meetings.  While the thought of drafting papers or doing reading assignments was overwhelming, the thought of cross-referencing all those little numbers into that book I had checked out was irresistible. I sat down at my desk and set out the book and note, starting from the “WELL” I had discovered earlier and moving forward.  D-O-N-E.  A congratulatory message to start. Though exciting at first, the work quickly grew tedious.  I found myself having to check and re-check letters as I lost…

The Sequence

Despite feeling overwhelmed by the amount of data it presented, that little piece of paper burned a hole in my pocket all the way to the dining hall.  I argued back and forth with myself over whether I really needed to eat anything that day, and it was all I could do to grab the first plate I saw, bringing out the note before I had even sat down. I quickly lost my momentum, however, as my eyes darted over those numbers again.  So many numbers, zero context, somehow it felt like there wasn’t even anything to figure out.  Those…

To the Stacks

  I held the small piece of paper in my hand. RB155 .N27 2005 The “2005” jumped out from the rest of the text.  Clearly a year, but what about the rest?  Stumped, I leaned back in my chair and looked around again, wondering whether someone was watching from afar to see how long it took me to solve the first clue.  I watched the rows of bookcases that filled half of the room, searching for a pair of eyes peering through the books or the slight movement of a figure staying just out of sight.  My surveillance didn’t last…

Asleep in the Library

Asleep in the Library

    It was late autumn of my first year of college, and in my effort to keep clinging on to the ultra-studious persona I had cultivated in high school, I had been making myself go to the library after my early class and study until lunch.  But that early class was early, and the library was always so cold.  Most mornings, my time there was spent with my head resting on my folded arms, Franz Ferdinand’s only two melancholy songs playing on loop through my headphones while I drifted in and out of a doze.  Those cubicle-style desks just…