61 The Lost Bookworm (1/2)

Angella twitched as she ran her fingers down the spine of the book that she had pulled off the old reddish brown bookshelf . She had been quite impressed with the kindly women that ran the homely library. Though it was the only one of its kind in the entire island, it still held a vast enough collection that it was likely that even if people had travelled quite extensively one would likely find something new in the peaceful town.

The collection that the library sported spanned from topics as mundane as 'Thirty exotic Lawn shapes' to 'Basic Grand line Climate- A Discovery'. The books were stacked to the tops of the shelves and the topmost pile even leaned against the wall to make room for the smaller and less known titles.

Stacks of books sat to the side of each shelf, with an old wooden ladder leaning against the side of the old oak case. A dusty and old paper smell infused the room with a earthy tinge to it.

For the past hour, Angella had been walking through the book-filled alleyways of the colossal room, picking up anything that interested her in anyway, before perusing its contents. She had felt so fulfilled with the entire trip that she had even begun to compare it to the kind of freedom and carefree spirit she had back in the island of Ohara.

With a melancholic sigh, she turned back towards the entrance of the building wistfully running her thin pale fingers against the spines of the many books that spanned the shelves as she walked.

The librarian sat smiling at the counter, that stood at the entry way to the building. A dull thrum of repeated thuds echoed throughout the otherwise silent establishment as she stamped the books that were on her table.

Her old and wrinkly hand held the books caringly as she stacked them to the side, neatly and orderly it was placed off to the side of the table.

She smiled at the people entering and exiting the big building, most of whom were children whose head barely reached past the tip of the wooden counter. Her eyes flashed with an old women's care as she looked at the kids sitting at the tables arranged in between the door and the many alleyways.

Angella looked at her with a melancholic and wistful glint in her eyes, the old women reminded her of her own grandmother that had taken care of her on her home island. She had a favorite rocking chair that she sat on at all times and knit most of the clothes that a young Angella wore, her hands were filled with the pricks of the knitting needle that she used in her embroidery.

With a defeated sigh, Angella wrenched herself from her reminiscing, forcing herself to walk out of the most familiar structure that she had visited in her time off her home island, bowing her head towards the old librarian as she walked out into the pleasant night.

If she was being honest with herself, she would find that she was more than just a little excited at the prospect of returning home, hugging her grandmother and inhaling the deep and rich scent of the Oharan library.

In fact, it could be considered to be her only motivation to stay on the ship, the pirate crew, as they called themselves. She could only forcefully push down the bile that rose in her throat whenever anyone on the 'crew' mentioned the word 'pirate' and could not help but revile the implications of her associations with them.