Attention Whoring, Nostalgia

Library

I finished a notebook last week, so I’m going to begin posting things I wrote in it and never typed up. This post is “Shit I Wrote in the Library While I Waited for my Tutoring Client to Show Up.”

She ran back and forth from the library counter to her stacks of books she had compiled on the floor taking two at a time. It wasn’t that she couldn’t carry more, but rather that she originally picked up two when she leaned over, her lower lip extended to catch any errand snot that dripped from her nose. Bending back over seemed like too much work so instead she ran across the library one hand holding up her bright purple corduroy pants that only fell when she ran, the other holding the books she had picked up from her neat pile in the middle of the busiest library aisle. Her unwashed straight hair bounced off her head like someone was continuously shaking a sheet free of crumbs.

Her mother laughed, charmed with her daughter’s incapabilities.

I wrote, charmed with the girl’s incapabilities.

She didn’t think she had any incapabilities.

 

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