The books were lined perfectly along their shelves
Battlements of knowledge
An army of thoughts
I eased my way between the stacks
Careful with each footfall
Paying heed the warnings given
“Oh sure plenty of value to be found there
In thought or coin the library’s a trove
Though…
You must be quiet…”
I slid past adult fiction
Approaching the archive and rare books
I held my backpack before me
Hands gripping the tools within tight
No jingle or rattle would I allow escape
The cabinet stood before me
Cracked leather spines
Cloth worn down to wood
Each one worth enough to feed me for months
Gently I set the backpack down
Undoing the strap which held it closed
I lifted from within my lock pick set
With nimble fingers I tested the size of the lock and tumblers within
When satisfied I began gently lifting and testing each one
Finding the order in which to move them
And the height at which they caught
A smile broke over my face
As I managed the final tumbler
Slowly
Carefully
I turned the lock
Then
click
It turned and opened for me
I had a sack within my backpack
Which I then pulled out
And with greatest care
Lowered the tomes within
A bible
Illuminated and gilded
A Tree of Codes
Barely held together
On the Origin of Species
Signed too infact
creeeeak
Behind me
I didn’t look
I simply grabbed my bag
And ran
Ran with all my might
Behind me something hissed
Serpentine
But footfalls crashed as it followed
Barreling ever closer
I felt the breath
Its labored heat
The doors but feet away
The moment I passed the threshold
The sound stopped
Replaced instead
By churring crickets
And a gentle breeze
Which were quick drowned out
By my own panting
Keeled over
And clutching my books
Months of food
Waiting to be traded
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