The Stacks

Last last LAST time on the Chronicles of Coralende winfry winster totally passed up a prime opportunity to pick up a hot babe. But don’t worry we still got plenty of time for all that so hold your horses. You can’t rush romance. And whoever said anything about romance? Are you writing this story or am I?

For several weeks things continued as usual, which is to say nothing happened between winfry and isabel expect their brief exchanges at 10:00 am on Saturday mornings.

“Good morning mr. winfry.”

“uh… good morning… I…” But he never got past that and he instead retreated to his cuffs and shuffled into the library towards his long table. It goes without saying but I have to say it anyways because some people are just that stupid, that winfry knew her name but didn’t have the courage to say it.

Of course they both observed each other more intensely than a biologist observing bacteria. winfry knew the layout of isabel’s desk by heart; he knew where her favorite part of the library was (section 42a: gaelitic poets); he knew in exactly which section of her purse she kept her tampons. And isabel had discovered the system to winfry’s apparent clutter; she knew at what time he would go to the men’s room on Saturdays (11:50); she knew what he kept in his pockets: his wallet, keys, pocket watch, four pens and a handful of binder clips. But winfry refused to admit that isabel was watching him too and so nothing happened.

That is nothing happened until never because nothing ever actually happens between them because they are both homosexual… just kidding. One day, in search for his muse who seemed to have gone on an extended vacation, winfry went looking for her in the mythology section on the fourth floor of the library. The only way up to the fourth floor was the narrow, claustrophobia-inducing, clanky and slow elevator.

The nilbmah citadel public library was built in the forgotten history of nilbmah when nilbmahians actually used the library and when fire safety was non-existent. Now there were only 134 library members and only perhaps 50 regulars; all the other nilbmahian’s were way too busy socializing to bury their noses in books. The library stayed open more out of inertia than respect for the past or for books. So the building was old, ancient, and empty.

winfry had just gotten into the sardine can of an elevator and was about to close the clinky elevator cage door, when isabel slipped out from behind a book stack.

“mr. winfry, are you going up?”

winfry looked up to see isabel in a well-fitting black dress and a burgundy cardigan that hugged her fine figure. Over her breasts hung a silver necklace with a tiny teaspoon. Her wavy auburn hair played about her shoulders as she walked towards him and her hazel eyes smiled through her glasses. At this moment, winfry was even more completely cognizant of her beauty. In fact, she was so outrageously attractive in that moment that I almost jizzed on myself as I wrote this paragraph.

winfry looked down, smiled and left the door open. isabel slipped into the confined compartment filling the air with her scent while winfry pressed himself into the corner like a trapped bird. isabel closed the gate, pressed four and the rickety elevator began its slow ascent to the fourth floor bobbing its two passengers around as it went. For a full minute and 6 seconds jostling of the car kept both of them busy holding on and brought the two into dangerous proximity. At one point, a particularly enthusiastic jerk brought winfry down on isabel (it was a wonder they stayed standing). After regaining balance and personal bubbles, winfry apologized profusely – it was the most he had ever said to her. isabel lowered her head and let herself smile. And then they were there. For winfry, at least, not even a rollercoaster would have been more thrilling and he was exhausted.

isabel opened the gate and walked into the fourth floor leaving winfry staring behind her. She was just about to

“Wait…”

winfry had somehow regained his energy and gain-gained a speck of confidence. isabel turned around slowly and even though winfry didn’t see it, her smile grew.

“I… ahh… was wondering… if you don’t mind me asking, but ah… what are you looking for? Because I know this floor like a baby bird knows it’s mother’s face… imprinting you know.”

“Oh yeah. And why do you know this floor so well?”

It was a curve ball that hit winfry in the face. He was expecting her to deny his help but she didn’t even answer his question.

“Umm? … What did you say?”

“I asked why you know this floor so well. And don’t you want to get out of that stuffy elevator?”

“Ohh, yeah. That’d be a good thing to do,” winfry said as he walked towards isabel. He stopped short of isabel, staring at her necklace and then blushed as he noticed her breasts as well. After about 10 seconds of silent blushing, he gave a start as he remembered isabel’s question. “I guess I know this floor so well because well… this is the mythology section and I ah… mythology is kind of a hobby of mine at the moment and I’m up here a lot.” And then something happened to winfry. He didn’t notice it then but later he would reflect that something particular happened just at that moment. He knew exactly what to say. After months of frustrated writing, he finally knew exactly what to say. “You’re necklace is from the phylanix saga. The gaelitic poets were fascinated by that myth. There are several copies in the southwest corner. If you want I can help you find them; the elevator scares mrs. weatherwood (Sorry for the interruption, this is the author, not winfry, speaking. I just wanted to tell you that mrs. weatherwood is the other librarian. Now back to the story) so this floor never got reorganized.”

“So then I should be spending more time up here with you then. Funny that mrs. weatherwood never mention this floor to me. I just found it in some blueprints I happened to be looking at. And I would certainly appreciate your help, mr. winster. Lead the way.”

She gestured for him to go ahead. “Oh, ok… and you can call me winfry.” Winfry went past and with the narrowness of the stacks he had to brush against her. He held his breath as he passed brushing against her. He then led the way to the phylanix saga without difficulty. He picked up a very old and worn out tome. “Here’s a good edition. The phylanix saga is actually one of my favorites,” he said and then he gazed back at her necklace, “you are certainly worthy of your quilaire, ms. englewood; you look like a goddess.”

winfry was very surprised by what he had said. At the time it seemed completely natural but a moment later he was overcome with a tsunami of awkwardness. He was so embarrassed he turned around in shame. IDIOT HUEVON HOW COULD YOU BE SUCH AN IMBESILE YOU RUINED EVERYTHING MAKE ME DISAPPEAR PLEASE KILL ME NOW

isabel slowly approached winfry and pulled his shoulder back so that their faces were together, “Please, call me isa.” Then, without a moment’s pause she leaned in further and *snog*…

Or was that just mr. winster’s imagination?