Shhhhh!
They called it spring. Intellectual crocuses sent shoots peeking through encrusted snow. After years of unrest followed by martial law, curfews began to be relaxed. The generation who came of age during the darkness began to explore the potential offered by their rediscovered liberties.
The young man known as ‘Roach’ entered the library. Though warm outside, he wore a hoody pulled over his shaven head. He stepped to the counter and asked for Twigs.
From her desk, Madeline looked at him. “Twigs? A book…? Oh, uhm… You mean Dorothy?”
“Twigs, Dorothy, Scarecrow… all the same to me.” He stopped to think. “Or Sharky. There’s something sharky about her, don’t you think?” The harsh sound of the ‘shhh’ cut the silence of the library. People looked up. ‘Where’s security when you need them?’
She pointed at the stacks. Roach sauntered off, looking down each aisle as he passed.
Seeing her, he waved discreetly and approached.
“Hey, Twigs! How’ve you been?”
“Wow, Roach. I’m good. Nice surprise.”
“Thought I’d pop in. You look busy, so I won’t keep you.”
“Yeah. On the clock and all that…”
“You wouldn’t have anything for me…?”
