The new school library was modern with windows that let in a grey light. Behind the donut desk was a librarian whose presence was friendly, calming. ‘Hi there,’ were the first words I heard from the American. A misfit, I took whatever friendship I could get – we read gothic fiction, supernatural stories.
At the end of the year, I was told she was leaving. Things wouldn’t be the same.
Now whenever I read a new book, I feel a warm presence and hear the sweet tang of a Californian accent.
I learned that my librarian had died over the holidays.
At the end of the year, I was told she was leaving. Things wouldn’t be the same.
Now whenever I read a new book, I feel a warm presence and hear the sweet tang of a Californian accent.
I learned that my librarian had died over the holidays.
