I blame the books...
Felt like writing a bit more, but didn't want to work on the sisters, so here's a bit of random fiction. I'm tired now, but maybe I'll finish it later:
I've never looked down the barrel of a gun before. I never thought I'd ever have to. But a LOT can change in a day, and a girl can do a LOT she's never done before when her life depends on it. When bigger things than just me are at stake.
So this little mild mannered librarian finally got a taste of all that excitement and adventure she was always reading about. But now that I've had my taste, I'd like to go back to my boring little day dream-fulled life. Too bad it's just not that easy.
This all started with a book, after all.
Or, rather, this all started with something I found IN a book, really. I was shelving and organizing and generally lamenting the students' lack of any sense of order first thing in the morning when I saw it - a thin volume, stuck onto the shelf at an odd angle. I was organizing History, full of large, bulky tomes only used for research papers, and the small book looked very out of place. I picked it up and inspected it. It looked old, covered in a faded blue cloth. My first thought was that it was a mis-shelved literature book. The cover was blank, so I opened it to see exactly what I was holding.
It was old, all right, but it wasn't literature. It looked a bit like a journal, hand written. Flipping through it, there were notes and maps and diagrams. Flipping back to the first page, it was signed "Henry Pitch" and dated 1781. Some sort of historical journal, perhaps the recordings of a soldier. I figured it belonged here after all and went to re-shelve it when a piece of paper fell out. I bent down and picked it up.
It was a folded piece of paper, yellowed with time though not as yellow as the pages in the journal. Unfolding it, I saw that there was a map and some hand-written notes in a very flourished script. The note said, "For love and for country, I only know so much. This is where the answers lie. I dare not look myself, for I am weak. Please do the right thing. My loyalty forever, Rosalind."
Examining the map closer, I was surprised to realize it looked familiar. Pulling a book on the history of Illinois, I confirmed that the map was indeed the very town I was in right now.
Now, I know what curiosity did to the cat. But, cats have 9 lives for a reason, right?
I decided since the library was pretty well staffed that an early and long lunch wouldn't get me in too much trouble. Just a little trip to where the map indicated, just to see what was there now, then back to work by noon. Honest. Besides, this is sitting in a library - I couldn't have been the first to find it. So I grabbed my lunch and my backpack and I was off with the map.
It was pretty easy to figure out that the spot marked on the map was. Looked like it was a home in the 1700's. Today it was a dorm. So I headed out to that dorm, intent on checking the lower levels for anything interesting or, well, old.
10 minutes later I was walking through the lobby slowly, eyes scanning the walls, ceiling and floors for anything that stood out, not really expecting to find anything. As my eyes went to the doorframe that lead down to the underground tunnels, I almost looked right over it, but a slight gleam caught my eye.
Rosalind's letter was stamped with a styalized rose. That same exact rose was engraved in the bottom of the doorframe, almost too small to notice. I almost didn't believe it, but there it was. I went though the door and down the stairs, into the underground tunnels.
I've never looked down the barrel of a gun before. I never thought I'd ever have to. But a LOT can change in a day, and a girl can do a LOT she's never done before when her life depends on it. When bigger things than just me are at stake.
So this little mild mannered librarian finally got a taste of all that excitement and adventure she was always reading about. But now that I've had my taste, I'd like to go back to my boring little day dream-fulled life. Too bad it's just not that easy.
This all started with a book, after all.
Or, rather, this all started with something I found IN a book, really. I was shelving and organizing and generally lamenting the students' lack of any sense of order first thing in the morning when I saw it - a thin volume, stuck onto the shelf at an odd angle. I was organizing History, full of large, bulky tomes only used for research papers, and the small book looked very out of place. I picked it up and inspected it. It looked old, covered in a faded blue cloth. My first thought was that it was a mis-shelved literature book. The cover was blank, so I opened it to see exactly what I was holding.
It was old, all right, but it wasn't literature. It looked a bit like a journal, hand written. Flipping through it, there were notes and maps and diagrams. Flipping back to the first page, it was signed "Henry Pitch" and dated 1781. Some sort of historical journal, perhaps the recordings of a soldier. I figured it belonged here after all and went to re-shelve it when a piece of paper fell out. I bent down and picked it up.
It was a folded piece of paper, yellowed with time though not as yellow as the pages in the journal. Unfolding it, I saw that there was a map and some hand-written notes in a very flourished script. The note said, "For love and for country, I only know so much. This is where the answers lie. I dare not look myself, for I am weak. Please do the right thing. My loyalty forever, Rosalind."
Examining the map closer, I was surprised to realize it looked familiar. Pulling a book on the history of Illinois, I confirmed that the map was indeed the very town I was in right now.
Now, I know what curiosity did to the cat. But, cats have 9 lives for a reason, right?
I decided since the library was pretty well staffed that an early and long lunch wouldn't get me in too much trouble. Just a little trip to where the map indicated, just to see what was there now, then back to work by noon. Honest. Besides, this is sitting in a library - I couldn't have been the first to find it. So I grabbed my lunch and my backpack and I was off with the map.
It was pretty easy to figure out that the spot marked on the map was. Looked like it was a home in the 1700's. Today it was a dorm. So I headed out to that dorm, intent on checking the lower levels for anything interesting or, well, old.
10 minutes later I was walking through the lobby slowly, eyes scanning the walls, ceiling and floors for anything that stood out, not really expecting to find anything. As my eyes went to the doorframe that lead down to the underground tunnels, I almost looked right over it, but a slight gleam caught my eye.
Rosalind's letter was stamped with a styalized rose. That same exact rose was engraved in the bottom of the doorframe, almost too small to notice. I almost didn't believe it, but there it was. I went though the door and down the stairs, into the underground tunnels.