The Librarian Of Crooked Lane の小説・ストーリー

"The whole city belongs to them." I looked across the neon canyon. On the far side, nestled between two massive towers of chrome, was a small, dark building. It didn't have holograms. It didn't have neon. It was built of old, brown brick. On the roof, a single, flickering sign remained. **[THE ARCHIVE: HARD COPIES ONLY]** "There," I said. "The Librarian. If she’s real, she’s there." --- ### The Pedestrian Debt We began to move along the catwalks, trying to stay in the shadows of the massive billboards.

Books kept her company when she felt lonely and the mere thought of walking into the library made her giddy with excitement. When she entered the library was quiet as usual, the grumpy old librarian slouched in the chair with a huge book open in her hand. It was clear that she didn’t want to be disturbed. The old woman merely acknowledged her presence or anything that happed around her for that matter, completely immersed in the book that she was reading. Mikayla crossed the threshold to classical literature section, which was situated at a dim lit corner with no camera surveillance. It was a perfect blind spot for students to make out; Unfortunately, it was also a spot that had given her ni

So I dropped out, and came here, renting a small room from an old lady named Helen, who’s a friend of the lady who was the librarian here before me. Chloe was too prideful to greet me when I walked into work. I dumped a box of new arrivals on her desk without saying a word. I only had to pack out the “Tiny Pretty Things” series in the ‘New and Trendy’ section that stood at the front of the library entrance. Besides that, work was relatively uneventful, so I waited for my lunch break to make an appointment with the doctor down the road.

“Do you think I’m blind? There isn’t a mark on your neck. If Lucas was using you as one of his toys, you would be a bloodless, empty sack by now.” We came to a stop at the archive doors. I stared in awe as Brigid pressed a thumb to a scanner on the lock, and the door gave a satisfied beep. I couldn’t believe how naive I’d been to think I could simply sneak in on my own. Brigid pushed the door inward and we stepped inside to a vast library of books and documents. Shelves full of journals and documents expanded from floor to ceiling, and rows and rows of books lined the floor in meticulous patterns. It was like walking through a maze.

He says, pushing me through the door and into the store. I lead him to the back room where Mrs. B put a bunch of comfortable couches and armchairs as well as lamps for gentle light. Bookshelves line every wall, stacked to capacity with beautiful leather bound books. There's even a bronze, gliding ladder that she doesn't use anymore, but she calls it her pride and joy.

he said finally, "You strike me as someone who doesn't play about money." She laughed. "You're right, I don't," she said. "But I'm not an accountant." "No?" "Librarian," she said. "At a bookshop in New York. Great place. Very good natural light, which matters more than people think." Marco looked at her for a moment. The look of someone deciding whether to believe something and finding, against the evidence of everything else, that they mostly did. "I have an aunt who's a librarian," he said.

He inwardly groaned, annoyed at another distraction to getting on with his dissertation. Alex drove to the college. On his way to the library, after numerous attempts, he made an appointment with the doctor for tomorrow afternoon, courtesy of a lucky cancellation. As he stood in the queue at the main desk, he watched Penny Whitbread, the Head Librarian. The student ahead of him, loaded up with books, moved away. He edged forward to the desk. Penny’s eyes lit up when she saw him. “Hi, Alex. You’re in luck. The book you ordered came in and I found another that might surprise you. As you weren’t in yesterday, I took it home with me for a browse. Fascinating stuff, absolutely fascinating.”

Writing, that's the only one thing that keeps me sane. I doubled up my steps so as to hide myself from the eyes of people. "Finally " I whispered softly, as I opened the old rusty door of the Library. Mrs Lola, the librarian held on to a clipboard and marker, as she bent over to cross examine some books on the monstrous bookshelves that looked like they could collapse anytime. As usual I am the only one who comes into the library this early. She nodded her head briefly like an agama lizard, I didn't fail to get the signal. It simply means I will be with you shortly.

Tonight, she needed answers that lived beyond reason. At the base of the final stair, she found the heavy door. She pushed it open slowly, the hinges creaking like a groan from the earth itself. Inside, the librarian was waiting. He was impossibly old — his hair long and white as bone, his eyes dim but alert. His name was Eldritch, the keeper of the archives, said to have served three Alphas before Kilian. He didn’t seem surprised to see her. “I wondered when you’d come,” he rasped, his voice echoing softly off the stone. “They always come when the world begins to burn.”