The Paris Library 소설 & 이야기

"I'm sure one day someone is going to say to me, and you want to go where? And when they do, I will realise that I am in the wrong bloody country." Outside the shop where Blanche bought the guidebook, a couple, who appear to be local, argue or agree on something altogether. I can't tell. We catch a taxi and stop for an alcoholic drink at the place de la Bastille. A paved open square in Paris where the Bastille prison stood until the storming of the Bastille and its subsequent physical destruction between 14 July 1789 and 14 July 1790 during the French Revolution. Most of the outside tables are empty, and when a young waitress comes over to take our order, I ask for white wine for Blanche and

Madam Pince looked at it with a shocked expression. "If I'm not wrong, it was founded in the year 1841 and has a collection of over one million books. Most of them are in english. If you want to visit it one day, it is located near the Charing Cross Station, not far from the Leaky Cauldron non-magical entrance. Just ask any non-magical that he would know about it, or take the Knight Bus." Madam Pince slowly nodded her head, still fixated on the magical illusion of the great library. Susan waved her hand again and the illusion slowly faded, waking up Madam Pince.

FELIX ------ It had been a week since Paris, Rafael and I had that encounter outside the library. I was so quick to assume Paris was late that I didn’t even try to listen to her. The security guard had to tell me that she was actually an hour and half earlier than I was, I didn’t even notice the clean office, arranged files and the coffee in her hand. I was too busy trying to be rude to her. Later on, I was told there was a camera and a recorder in my office other than the ones we install.

she stopped herself, shifting her shoulders as she weighed the statement, "not a lot that we have left of it, anyway." "Why's that?" Avera asked with interest. "It was all lost," Kara told her, issuing a glance in her direction. "You know," she added, "during the Great Fire." Avera looked at her, unknowing, and she began to elaborate. "See, Stephan prided himself on his public works projects, and one of his crowning achievements was this really illustrious library he had built. All of the official documents and the entirety of the collections of the Royal Library were stored there, and when the city burned, the books burned with it," Kara stated, continuing to search through the catalogue. "

He fidgeted with my necklace before kissing me. The rest of the day was a blast. We walked along the Seine, went up the Eiffel Tower, explored the busy Lafayette. Felix insisted on going to Petit Palais, which now housed the City of Paris Museum of Fine Arts. While inside that literal palace, I noticed Felix discreetly taking pictures of me as I looked at the paints and impressive architecture. I smiled to myself, but decided not to confront him about it. After all, it was extremely flattering to be photographed when you were surrounded by works of art. I took some pictures of him myself, just as proof that that day had actually happened and I hadn't daydreamed it all.

Someone who saw. I was tucked away in my usual corner, a sanctuary of sorts behind a towering stack of outdated encyclopedias, attempting to decipher the intricacies of the French Revolution. The library, at this particular hour, offered a temporary reprieve from the clamor of the school day. It was a haven for the introverts, the studious, and those seeking a moment of quiet contemplation. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and floor wax, a comforting, familiar aroma. I was so lost in the dry pronouncements of history that I barely registered his approach until he was standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on the shelf above me.

he said, pointing to a crumbling façade wrapped in vines, "was once a secret meeting place for writers during the war. They called it La Bouche Fermée. The Silent Mouth." I stared up, wide-eyed. "That’s incredible. I would’ve walked past it without ever knowing." He smirked. "That’s the charm of Paris, Mademoiselle. The best parts don’t shout—they whisper." By lunchtime, I was starving. Raphaël led me to a cozy café tucked between a flower shop and a bookstore, its terrace shaded by a grapevine-covered pergola. Inside, it smelled of garlic, butter and fresh herbs. "You have to try the linguini," he said, already waving at the waiter like an old friend. "With the truffle cream."

“Oh, Marcello, it’s not the same! This particular library has a very rare first edition I’m hoping to glimpse. It’s a matter of... literary pilgrimage. You can’t just order a spiritual experience, can you?” Marcello simply nodded. “I’ll prepare the car.” The drive was tense. They arrived at the library at 11:03 AM. Claudine jumped out. “Oh, it’s smaller than I imagined,” she sighed. “Not judging a book by its cover, but this one’s a bit... underwhelming.” She turned to Marcello, urgency on her face. “And Marcello, I’m desperately pressed. I need to use a restroom. Is there one here?”

Luxiana Sommeris “So, this is where you work?” Damien mused as we came to a stop outside the city library. His stormy blue eyes scanned the grand structure before us, his lips curving into an intrigued smile. “It’s huge.” I followed his gaze, taking in the towering stone building I had come to know so well. The carved pillars, the intricate arched windows, and the massive double doors leading inside stood proudly, a testament to the history within. The early morning light bathed the library in a golden hue, and a soft breeze rustled the trees lining the sidewalk, carrying the faint scent of old books and fresh ink.

the tourist commented. Dmitri smiled and replied with a nod, "Yes, it is. If you are looking for a quintessentially Parisian experience, then it is hard to outdo this Book Café which effortlessly bridges old and new," he answered. “You seem new here. How did you notice about this quiet place ?” he asked intrigued. "I read about it in the tourist guide," his companion replied. "It was one of the hotspots on the list, which seems to be a favourite hangout spot for some of the town's most respected luminaries, artists, and intellectuals for over a century."