2

381 40 51
                                    


 She didn't live very far from the bookstore and only had maybe a ten minute walk to work. We both picked up a sandwich from Louie's, walked and chatted as we went down one of the side-streets that split off from the main avenue that had lead from The Book Nook and past the sandwich shop. Shade huddled around the street, looming apartment buildings blocked out the setting sun and put everything beneath in tones that grew heavier and darker, the streetlights becoming brighter.

When Alex had told me she was having a campfire, I pictured her living in a house with a roomy backyard in the more upkept part of the city. I was proven wrong however, when she led me up to the entrance of one of the many tall, faded buildings where parked cars took every spot along the street. She walked everywhere and I could see that everything she needed was close by.

"I thought we were going to have a campfire," I said, tilting my head up, quickly estimating that there were about fifteen to twenty floors.

"Oh we are."

"I thought maybe you had a backyard or something."

I was eager to see what sort of wonders would be in this girl's home. If the dwelling reflected the dweller, I was sure I'd be walking into the strangest, most mystifying art exhibit I'd ever seen.

She didn't have a backyard at all but merely a small balcony that looked off from her place on the fourteenth floor. She tugged me from the entrance and straight through the living room where everything was dark, rushing me through to the back patio doors that led to the tiny patio as if I might upset the equilibrium of the energy levels in the room if I lingered too long.

The lights were off and I was able to see almost nothing until I stopped short of the patio doors. Alexandria wrenched the sliding door open and told me to come on out, but I stood there scanning the entire wall of the living room until it clouded away in darkness. 

Books. From floor to ceiling, lined along the shelves of old, wooden bookcases each like the other and placed side by side, completely filled with books and barely space to spare. It was too dark to read any of the titles but I reached out anyway and stroked my hand gently across the corners of the dust jackets.

"It's....absolutely beautiful."

She had her very own version of The Book Nook. I was completely enveloped in the absolute amazement of it and the feverish feeling I always got when surrounded by such infinite volumes of words. I wanted to know what books were on those shelves, which had been read over and over.

"Another time, maybe. Get out here." She yanked my arm and pulled me past the glass door and on to the balcony.

"But, all those - "

"Yeah, yeah, it's pretty rad, I know. Here, start crumpling paper while I try and get this started."

"What?"

She flung a newspaper at my chest for me to catch then knelt down and started arranging sticks in the middle of a small ring of rocks that were arranged in sand. The sand had been dumped there and pushed up into the center area of the balcony like a make-shift campfire made by someone trying to survive in the wild.

She flicked a match and set the crumpled newspaper and tiny twigs alight, nursing it so a small red glow grew to a size no larger than a lantern flame.

We sat on opposite sides of the fire on the hard floor of the balcony. The fire wasn't necessary for warmth as the summer evening was still plenty warm even though the last dying light was fading in the distance somewhere west on the other side of where we were.

The Book NookWhere stories live. Discover now