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Gazing up and down the long bookshelves of the archives, Angela scoffed. "Well, it's no wonder this place is deserted; it's a mess! Books piled every which way, odds and ends scattered about. Is that a skull? Mercy, where to even begin?" Angela paced up and down the aisles. It was no use to just take everything down and reshelve it. That would just create a bigger mess. But as she looked at the unmarked books, it was almost as if they were trying to speak to her. They wanted to be catalogued, she just knew it! She leaned in, straining her eyes against each dusty leather spine, gleaning their organizational secrets. Her glasses expanded, their lenses thickening. As she squinted at each ancient tome, wrinkles creased her face. Her sweater grew thicker, shielding her from the cold draft that crept throughout. She nodded a kind thank you to the sweater. She knew she'd be down here for a while.

It was all coming together, though. The intense planning would be more than worth it. She hunched over to scan the lower shelves. As her head filled with classifications and reference numbers, her hair became whiter and whiter. As she rose from the last book, a loud crack echoed throughout the archives. Putting her index finger to her mouth, she shushed reflexively. "Quiet, please! This is a library!"

Realizing she was in fact alone, Angela was admittedly embarrassed to have shushed her own popping joints. She also realized that she had the knowledge to reorganize the archives, but no physical means to do so. "Oh fiddlesticks," her voice creaked. "Well, I'm sure there are some nice young students who will jump at the chance to fix this place up. I'll just run off some flyers for the bulleting board." Angela slowly made her way upstairs to find the school's mimeograph.

THE END ...or is it?

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Description
This episode is brought to you by

Gazing up and down the long bookshelves of the archives, Angela scoffed. "Well, it's no wonder this place is deserted; it's a mess! Books piled every which way, odds and ends scattered about. Is that a skull? Mercy, where to even begin?" Angela paced up and down the aisles. It was no use to just take everything down and reshelve it. That would just create a bigger mess. But as she looked at the unmarked books, it was almost as if they were trying to speak to her. They wanted to be catalogued, she just knew it! She leaned in, straining her eyes against each dusty leather spine, gleaning their organizational secrets. Her glasses expanded, their lenses thickening. As she squinted at each ancient tome, wrinkles creased her face. Her sweater grew thicker, shielding her from the cold draft that crept throughout. She nodded a kind thank you to the sweater. She knew she'd be down here for a while.

It was all coming together, though. The intense planning would be more than worth it. She hunched over to scan the lower shelves. As her head filled with classifications and reference numbers, her hair became whiter and whiter. As she rose from the last book, a loud crack echoed throughout the archives. Putting her index finger to her mouth, she shushed reflexively. "Quiet, please! This is a library!"

Realizing she was in fact alone, Angela was admittedly embarrassed to have shushed her own popping joints. She also realized that she had the knowledge to reorganize the archives, but no physical means to do so. "Oh fiddlesticks," her voice creaked. "Well, I'm sure there are some nice young students who will jump at the chance to fix this place up. I'll just run off some flyers for the bulleting board." Angela slowly made her way upstairs to find the school's mimeograph.

THE END ...or is it?

Back to previous page: mr-dna.deviantart.com/art/Ange…

Back to START: mr-dna.deviantart.com/art/Ange…

*Your votes in the comments are nice and all, but this is a commission-based chain. See START or the Journal for details.