An exxagerated Library

The comforting smell,
of paper and ink

the rustle of pages,
and the soft humming of the computers

silence,
in the library.

The day is young and the children are still asleep.

The best chair is free and the best books remain untouched.

The silence wraps around her like a blanket,
warm and comforting,
it becomes her shield.

Unknown.
anonymous
free to read what ever she wants.

But as the morning drags on,
the library comes alive.

The clatter of plates and cups echo throughout the library
the regulars at the upstairs cafe have finally arrived for their morning cup of coffee;

they are followed by the students, researchers and professors,
who trap briskly across the glossy floors before scuttling into their various sections of interest, hiding among the fine print of an appendix,
of a particularly large encyclopedia.

Then come the pleasure readers,
you can very nearly see them sprint over to the fiction section,
and though many stay to read in the quiet, comfy corners of the library;
others you see dashing out just as quickly as they arrived,
hidden behind mountains of paper backs.

Then at ten o'clock sharp every day, the children start to arrive.
Some creep in quietly to gently pull a book from the shelves before hiding away behind the picture books and computers;
but the other little menaces come in screaming and yelling,
dragging their poor parents behind them as they head for the corner of the children's section,
abandon all hope ye who be here at this dreaded hour,
story time is upon us.

As more and more continue to arrive,
it is time to slink away and read behind the children's paperbacks,
hidden from the ya-hooing, jostling crowd of little 'uns,
safe at last.

Come twelve the library is well and truly awake,
the day has begun at last.