Fly Paper Ninja

I smiled at the stacks, inhaling again. Hundreds of thousands of pages that had never been
turned, waiting for me. The shelves were a warm, blond wood, piled with spines of every
color. Staff picks were arranged on tables, glossy covers reflecting the light back at me.
Behind the little cubby where the cashier sat, ignoring us, stairs covered with rich
burgundy carpet led up to worlds unknown. “I could just live here,” I said.