Writing this from the library. I like hanging out here, kind of because home seems so...not-safe? It feels like there could be things hiding behind the shower curtains and around the corner and stuff, the house is too big and empty. I feel like something bad’s happened in it, but I don’t know what.
The library’s really cool and cozy and the lights are all bright, and there’s always people around. Some of the nicer librarians know my name and say hi to me, and there’s always this mom and her little kid who come ever afternoon, and this guy with sunglasses who is always writing stuff and looking on books in the table tucked into one of the darker corners, upstairs in the Adult Nonfiction Section. Me and Alison always make fun of him for the whole sunglasses-inside-thing. Pretty sure he’s, like, a spy.
And of course, there’s Alison, (I think I've talked about her, the Killjoy who’s always hanging around there and she’s also written bandom fanfic and it’s awesome) and I just.
CAN’T.
EVEN.
DESCRIBE.
How awesome she is and cute and I just want to bang on my keyboard and squeal.
We’ve been hanging out at the library, I kind of want to ask her to get ice cream or something. Maybe coffee? I don’t know. Anyways she's trying to look over my shoulder so I'm posting this.
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