TALES OF THE INFINITE LIBRARY

THE LORE EATER

The day closed on a Saturday. The shadows grew long. The park bustled with weekend activities. Across the street was the old library, housed in a rustic building that stood amongst modern-day structures belittling its outdated façade. No one in the city remembers when the building was established or who built it. They could only speculate, yet rumors were that it had been restored many times and was a very ancient structure. But on a more practical note, it was merely an old building that stood defiant of a modern-day era—a reminder of an older and simpler time.

Sunlight slipped through the window blinds. Slanted rays touched a refurbished counter. Bookshelves shone with their newly lacquered faces. Rows upon rows of books lined up, waiting for eager hands to pluck the knowledge from their shelves. An old woman stood behind the counter. She stopped checking her inventory and glanced at her watch. She smiled as she put down the ledger, placed the pen between the pages, and quietly walked to the back room behind the counter.

“Teatime,” she said with a nod.

Hot tea was poured into a waiting cup, followed by a lump of sugar. She sat behind a small wooden table in a small pantry, surrounded by aging walls and rustic floors filled with the aroma of the Orient. Different variations of teas in glass containers were lined on cupboard shelves, while spices like turmeric, paprika, cumin, and others, were placed in another. She closed her eyes and smiled as she sipped.

Whispers came from the upstairs floors. It echoed along the walls. No one really came in on a Saturday to read or borrow books. No one was there to notice the hushed conversations. She put the cup down and looked up.

“They are talking,” she whispered. “They have not talked in a long while. Something’s going to happen. Well, it’s been too long, I think. Yet, maybe this time around…”

A black cat propped on the table beside her cup and eyed her suspiciously. The cat started to lick its paw. She looked at the cat and waited for a reply. “Well, Prospero, what do you think?”

Prospero, who had been under her care for as long as she could remember, remained silent.

“You don’t need to answer me. We will know soon enough.”

She emptied her drink and headed to the sink. She washed her cup and looked out the window above the sink. Her garden, though quaint and small, was in full bloom. She smiled and remembered her far away home, where she played in the fields and the forest outside the city. It was gone now. She sighed as she reminisced.

Meow… She turned to see Prospero that stared at her.

“Yes, I remember my friend—home.”

She wiped her hands, picked up the cat, and went to the garden. Zosime sat on an old wooden chair and put the cat on her lap. She began stroking Prospero’s head. The cat closed his eyes and purred. She paused as her gaze was momentarily fixated on her garden and up at the clear blue sky.

She returned to reminisce about ancient days, back to a time of knowledge, wild discoveries, and new beginnings. She remembered the Great Library of Alexandria standing mightily against a backdrop of azure hues. A time when the vast knowledge of the world was recorded on scrolls and tablets, filling the many shelves of the library. She remembered her family, the scholars of the Great Library, who diligently worked to maintain its vast archives. It was the Order of the Muses that Zosime belonged to. They were a select few who guarded knowledge from the ancient world. They were scrolls written during the time of the gods, at the beginning of the ages when the world knew of magic and the power of the cosmos. Some have survived over time, and they were left in the care of an organization that would readily die to protect them. But alas, all of it was in her memories now, and she was the last who remained loyal to the lost knowledge of the world.

Her ponderings were interrupted by a twisting of a doorknob and the echoing of footsteps.

“The first visitor for the day,” she said as she rose with Prospero. “Let us greet them with a smile, shall we?”

***

Lorelei entered the library because she thought she heard voices. She was a stranger to the neighborhood. She lived in an old apartment with her grandmother—the only person she ever knew. Her grandmother never told her anything about who her parents were. The old woman would get irritated whenever she was questioned about family. She was dismissive and always retorted: You are lucky to still be alive and living with me. She was scared of the old woman and felt powerless whenever they were together. And so she obeyed without any questions (or at least, made her grandmother think so). Lorelei never even asked why she didn’t go to school. She just accepted the fact that she was never going to. At twelve, she should be somewhere studying with her friends and going to the beach in the summertime. But that was not her life. Hers was shrouded in mystery, and she wanted answers. Unfortunately, she never got one.

Upon entering, a feeling of delight overwhelmed her, for Lorelei was surrounded by books. Everywhere she looked, she saw shelves of books lined against each other. They hugged the wall up to the far end of the room. There were four round tables in the corner, each with a reading lamp and four chairs. Behind the counter was another, more ornate, bookshelf filled with large hardcover volumes. A door stood right beside it.

She was close to crying. For some reason, she felt it was her home—a home she hasn’t seen in a long time. The smell of old books and wood lacquer brought her back to a time long ago that wasn’t in her memory before. The experience unlocked facets of a life she never knew she had, and the memories were not going away. The moment was surreal—like opening a secret door that led to her soul. Lorelei clutched her chest with both hands and shed a tear. She held it back, but eventually, she gave in to her emotions and cried.

After wiping the tears off her face, her hands made their way to the books, feeling the many spines of various books that felt magic upon her touch. Her gaze floated at the many titles, the many names etched or printed, and even though some were unfamiliar to her, she couldn’t help but offer a smile. She was being introduced to strangers—people who called to her and offered her stories she couldn’t resist. It felt like home—her real home—and the world wasn’t as intimidating as it used to be.

Lorelei’s browsing was interrupted by the sound of shuffling shoes and the low purr of a cat she heard clearly.

“Greetings, dear,” said an old woman behind the counter stroking the black cat she carried. “See anything you like?

“Not yet, I’m afraid,” said Lorelei, sniffing. “It may take a while to browse through all of these books! Until what time are you open?”

“It’s a Saturday, so probably until you find what you are looking for.” Zosime smiled. Somehow, the girl thought that the cat smiled as well. “Please, the books are waiting for you. Don’t mind me. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Lorelei smiled. Another odd feeling swept her like she knew who the old woman was—like they were connected.

She went back to her browsing. The old librarian sat behind the counter and tended to her cat, watching Lorelei fly to the different shelves, examining the girl with much curiosity. She went up and down the ladder, perusing the first shelf intricately not wanting to miss any title she might want to read.

“Do you need any help, dear?” Zosime asked.

“No, I’m alright,” softly replied the girl, “And it’s Lorelei, by the way.”

“Lorelei? Now that is a beautiful name. Do you know the legend behind that name?”

“Not really,” said Lorelei without shifting her gaze from the books.

“It’s an old German legend about the murmuring rocks of the Rhine River. It was said that long ago, a maiden threw herself into the river to die because her lover cheated on her. As she died, she was transformed to a Siren, and as vengeance upon every man who sailed upon the Rhine, she would sing and lure them to their deaths.”

Lorelei paused with a book and looked at it. It was an old copy of Finette Cendron by  Madame d’Aulnoy. She turned to the old woman and asked, “Do you believe that story? The one you just told me.”

“I believe in many stories, my dear. Stories are an essential part of my life, or should I say, an essential part of the existence of everything!”

“Yeah, but do you believe it happened? Was there really a maiden who threw herself into a river?”

“Yes,” said the old woman with much conviction.

There was something with the old woman that made Lorelei shiver, and yet, she had the same feeling of ease. She was curious to know who she was talking to. And then there was the cat that, she thought, who eyed her suspiciously. It looked very familiar though she couldn’t remember where she saw it last.

“They call me Zosime, young one,” said the old woman, smiling. “How do you like my library?”

“It’s beautiful!” replied Lorelei looking around at the books. “Have you worked here, long?”

“Yes—for a very long time,” she paused momentarily. “I remember a time when books meant the world to people. There was wonder and awe whenever someone opened and read a book, or a scroll, for that matter. People back then didn’t have computers or gadgets or the Internet. There were no tablets or smartphones where you read a story. They didn’t have television or radio. Books were the only things that gave people information. It empowered them with knowledge and made them smile, cry and laugh. But time is a thief that steals moments. Alas, those moments are gone.”

As Zosime spoke, Lorelei felt like she was in a vast open space beneath the stars, listening to the echoes of long-forgotten days. She smelled fresh grass, the sea, and the air of history passed through her very being like magic. She took to heart Zosime’s words, relishing the thought of books and scrolls as the conveyors of knowledge in a bygone age of wonder. It was a dull time, yet, a fantastic time—a time she could only imagine.

“Truly fascinating!” Lorelei said before feeling a shiver creep up.

Come up here.

“What was that?” Lorelei asked. She was spooked.

Zosime looked up.

Come up here.

“Did you hear that?”

Zosime said nothing but instead looked at Prospero, the cat, and paused. Prospero then looked at Lorelei and tilted his head.

“I have to go,” said Lorelei as she held on to her backpack, left the books, and ran out of the library. The door slammed hard.

“A lost Knowledge,” Zosime said emphatically. “It came back!”

Prospero hopped down from the counter and headed to an open window. He leaped onto the sill, but before he made his way out, he looked back at Zosime.

“Find her and protect her. Lead her back here. Find out what’s going on.”

Prospero nodded and leaped out the window.

***

Zosime recalled how she stumbled into the Infinite Library—the great secret the Order of the Muses vigilantly guarded. One night, she was left alone to examine ancient scrolls. Then she heard the calling of voices from beyond the deeper catacombs, which she was not yet allowed to enter. Her curiosity was piqued. She followed the haunting sounds. Torchlight danced and flickered from a breeze that found its way into the deeper tunnels.

The whispering grew louder. Every step she took made her heart pound faster. She heard the thumping, the loud hammering inside her chest as if her heart wanted to explode in anticipation. At the end of a poorly worked hallway, she saw a simple wooden door that didn’t have a latch. Zosime placed a hand on the door and tried to push. It wouldn’t open. The whispering inside subsided to a few murmurs. Zosime tried to figure out how to open the door, but all her efforts only drew her to frustration. The whispering stopped. She struck the door with a fist in frustration. She turned, and was about to walk away, when the wind suddenly relented, snuffing every lit torch except for the one near the wooden door. The creaking of hinges came from behind. She looked over her shoulder, and to her surprise, the door was ajar. A faint yellow glow emanated from inside. She turned and grabbed the torch. She held her breath and entered.

Zosime rubbed her eyes and adjusted her eyes on the dimly lit room. She found scrolls stacked on crooked shelves that had seen better days. She inspected them. The door quietly closed without her noticing. She started to read, and time passed in the outside world. A black cat stared at her in a dark corner.

She made many fascinating discoveries. Written on the scrolls were the origins of things lost to the world. Some were tales impossible to be true, yet such records indicated they were. She didn’t understand the words written on the scrolls, but the longer she looked, the sooner she understood. Words formed in her mind. She surprised herself by not only understanding the ancient texts, but also speaking it. Zosime, in that moment, when the world seemed to stop moving and all things became irrelevant, waded through that dark sea of knowledge that was taboo to the truths of humankind.

After a while, which was a very long while, Zosime finally yawned and let sleep take her. She rested beside one of the shelves and fell asleep. She dreamt of a thousand dreams that meant a thousand things—and she understood them all. She learned the ways of the old. It was a gift to her. In her dreams the black cat always accompanied her, being ever vigilant. She met many faceless people speaking in unfamiliar languages. They talked to her. She understood them. In her dream, Zosime absorbed the lore of the ancient world, and the Infinite Library accepted her.

She woke up one day and saw the black cat sitting across from her. She sat upright and examined it curiously.

“Yes, you…” she said to the cat, “Your name is Prospero. You were once a great sorcerer. I have met you in my dreams. Not in that form, but as a mighty old man who belonged to an age long forgotten.”

Keeper. The library whispered. Librarian.

Zosime understood her task. She understood the gravity of her responsibility. Ever since she was five, the Great Library of Alexandria became her home and the order as her keepers. She was taken off the streets and given a life not every urchin could have. Studying became her life. Knowledge became her tool. She was entrusted with secrets given to a select few because she could read the ancient text easily. She had to take care of it with utmost prudence.

The door opened. The sound of screams echoed from the passageway. Something stirred from the outside, and a sense of panic swirled inside Zosime’s chest. Quickly she made her way out with Prospero trailing. She had not reached far when an elder soaked in blood met her with haste. She was ordered to run and hide as the city lay siege. The old man died in her arms. Hurrying to her quarters, she quickly gathered all the scrolls and sprinted back to the Infinite Library.

Zosime ran. The sound of fighting and screaming broke the tranquility of her world. The sound of boots grew louder. Finally, she was able to reach the wooden door. Before she could enter, something swooped from behind and knocked her off her feet. The scrolls she clutched flew in the air and scattered across the floor. A skirmish erupted, and she turned to see Prospero engage a humanoid creature with a sickly head of a bird. She knew what it was: a Quenreynn, a Lore Eater. It was one of the many pests that sought the location of the Infinite Library to feast on the Knowledge within.

Prospero, smaller than the Quenreynn, knew how to fight the beast. He squared toe to toe, clawing and hissing, drawing green ichor from the huge creature. The beast screamed. The unholy sound rattled the catacombs.

Zosime scrambled for the scattered scrolls, but she couldn’t save all of them. She was pushed through the door by a flying black cat. The Quenreynn, soaked in its blood, furiously went after her. Zosime realized she had no choice but to close the door and leave the remaining scrolls. She noticed Prospero limp towards the closing door, hissing and ready to fight again. The door creaked, but before it shut, Zosime heard the cries of ancient texts pleading for their existence. With a heavy heart, she slammed the door shut, muffling the screams of the Knowledge slowly eaten by the voracious beast.

***

Lorelei was not, at the very least, hungry for the food in front of her. She wanted something else. It was something that made her uncomfortable. She was eagerly curious about the library. She wanted to know more about Zosime, the black cat, and the voices she heard. But at the same time, she was frightened and confused. She shifted uncomfortably at the dinner table.

Lorelei’s grandmother, a wicked crone who looked like an ancient statue withered with cracks, tore a portion of her bread and dipped it in spiced olive oil. She ate it slowly, taking her time to chew, oftentimes making a face like she didn’t like what she was doing. A wicked hand moved to a glass of water. Slowly she drank, but just a little, and placed the glass back exactly where she took it. She smiled awkwardly. There was something about the old woman that Lorelei didn’t like. It was like her grandmother had no life and moved like an automaton—a dull guardian of her freedom. The old woman bit another piece and made a face.

“Grandmother,” Lorelei said, realizing she couldn’t stop speaking. Her eyes bulged at her unwanted action. “I met a strange old woman at the library.”

Lorelei’s grandmother stopped chewing and looked at her. Her brows met.

“You went out, didn’t you?” Her wicked voice brought a shiver to Lorelei. “You disobeyed me again, didn’t you?”

Lorelei realized she said something she was not supposed to. Her actions were not her own. Her thoughts betrayed her and the truth was forced out. She tried to resist but the urge to talk more was overwhelming.

“Yes I did, you old hag!”

“Traitorous thing!” the crone spat, pointing with an accusing finger. “You thought I didn’t know—but I did! But it matters not, for I see you have found what I have been looking for. Where is she? Where is the library?”

The crone’s hands trembled, and her face wrinkled even more shedding flesh. Lorelei found that she no longer recognized her grandmother. In front of her stood a wicked beast that looked very familiar because she saw it once before in an old dream—or was it even a dream? The creature’s eyes glistened black, and a foul odor emanated from its very being. But instead of being frightened, Lorelei found herself amazed at what happened. She realized she was more frightened of the image of her grandmother than the horrid form before her. Her mind called out many stories that she realized she knew but wasn’t there before. Each lore was resurrected from her mind, and she whispered the details of each story, each legend and myth that flooded her memory. She knew what it was, and upon realizing this, she was terrified. Yet, she was conflicted, realizing that she was in danger and had to escape, yet wanting to know more about the creature and its legend.

The dining room window suddenly crashed as Prospero landed on the table. The cat hissed, with his claws out and teeth menacing. He remembered his encounter with the Lore Eater long ago. Lorelei snapped out of her state and remembered where she had seen the cat. Yes, in a library, but in a distant place and time, in a catacomb where the sounds of chaos echoed in stony corridors. She thought she imagined it. She remembered them being bigger, or rather she recalled being smaller.

The Quenreynn threw the dining table aside with ease. Lorelei dashed out of the way as Prospero leaped into the air and landed between the monster and the girl. She heard the words run and library in her mind. She nodded and made her way out of the apartment. Behind her was the sound of battle, the hissing, and thrashing, the roaring that made the building tremble. Down she sped two floors, out into an empty street. She didn’t notice that there were no people or that the night sky was devoid of stars. She ran without noticing the illuminations of red hues clashing against a wave of blue in the dark horizon. There was no sound except the muffled thrashing of chaos created by two creatures fighting to the death.

Eventually, sound finally broke the silence of everything, and Lorelei realized she was out of the Lore Eater’s influence. She often wondered why it became silent whenever she would sneak out of the apartment and go out on her morning adventures. The dullness of the world broke as soon as the park came into view. Lorelei never told her grandmother she sneaked out again, nor did she ever let the crone catch her, not after when she was caught and received a brutal lashing. She often found the old woman locked in her room in the mornings, not wanting to be disturbed. She realized that her grandmother slept all morning and woke up before dusk. Soon after, she made her excursions during the day and went home just before sunset. She wondered why she couldn’t escape her grandmother’s influence. It might have been fear, or it might have been magic. She never imagined the terrible secret, and couldn’t understand many things, like how the world changed and she didn’t. Details of her life were missing, and now she knew why. Maybe she could get answers from the old librarian. Maybe she could escape. Maybe it was all just a bad dream.

The chaos of the city assaulted her. Lorelei covered her ears as she waded through a sea of people out for the night’s festivities. The park had a sizable crowd. It was a Saturday, after all. She crossed the street and inched her way to the steps of the library. She welcomed the sight of Zosime standing by the doorway. The old librarian ran down the steps to help her, clutching her arm, and both made their way into the library. The doors closed with a terrible thud.

“Are you alright?” asked Zosime.

“I feel… weak,” Lorelei admitted and asked for water.

The two proceeded to the backroom where a pitcher of water waited. Zosime poured and filled a waiting glass. Lorelei snatched it and drank greedily.

“My grandmother…”

“I know,” replied the old librarian.

Lorelei heard the whispers again. It came from upstairs. She looked at Zosime with angry eyes and demanded answers.

“And answers you will have,” said Zosime, extending a hand to Lorelei. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“To the Infinite Library.”

***

Their footsteps echoed as they walked up to the second floor. They stood in front of a wooden door that lacked a latch. Lorelei felt a familiar pull, an eagerness, a feeling of excitement that quelled a dreadful longing. Zosime paused before placing a hand on the door. She looked over her shoulder and listened.

“Prospero is after it,” she said with concern, “And he is wounded. It is not the first time, though.” She looked at Lorelei and continued, “You are lucky you still exist.”

Zosime pushed open the door. Its hinges gave a soft moan, like a giant waking up from a thousand year slumber. The room inside was dark at first. Whispers came from within. As the door opened wider, Lorelei felt a rush of joy as if she had returned home. The whispers became clear speeches of welcome. She went in, fell to her knees and wept. Torches on the walls erupted with flames that lit everything with a yellow hue.

 “I… remember!” Lorelei said as she wiped her eyes.

“Indeed,” replied Zosime, looking at the library with a horizon stretching out to forever. “This was once your home and you finally made your way back.”

“But, how am I like this? Why am I… a girl—why am I human?”

“I understand now,” Zosime claimed as she crossed her arms. “Your transformation became a defense mechanism. The Quenreynn only eats Knowledge, devouring the lore written on ancient scrolls and magical texts. That is what we call your kind—Knowledge. Unlike modern books, ancient texts contain true magic, written in languages lost in time. The elders didn’t teach me how to communicate properly with your kind upon my initiation, but throughout the centuries, I finally learned how to. You becoming human, was the only way you could survive the Lore Eater. It doesn’t like the taste of humans. It probably kept you alive because it hoped you revert to your original form one day and eventually find the location of the library. It created a lie for you, manipulated you, and made you forget who you really are. But because you became human, you became curious, as humans are, and so you began to question and explore.”

“I am… writing—on some piece of paper?” gasped Lorelei in disbelief.

“No!” corrected Zosime. “You are more than that. You are a part of the foundations of magic. Without you, humanity would not have imaginations or dreams. We would be bleak creatures—unappealing idiots.” Zosime gave a short laugh. “Most of humanity doesn’t believe in all of this, that is why the world is in the state where it is, and why the Infinite Library is separated from reality—fearful of humankind and our ability to destroy what we don’t understand.”

“What of that… thing?”

Yes, librarian, how will you defeat the Lore Eater?

Zosime nodded several times before answering, “With a brave cat and a lot of deception.”

***

The air around the library grew cold, and the world stopped moving. Blue and red hues clashed in the distant sky. Silence overwhelmed everything. Out of a dark patch from the park across the street emerged the Quenreynn. It ran towards the library and screamed in muffled tones. It leaked green blood. Behind it dashed Prospero, bloodied, wounded, and filled with rage. He was angry that the Lore Eater abandoned their battle to go after the girl. No one backs out from a fight with Prospero!

The library doors exploded inward as the Quenreynn slammed against the thick wood. There was a momentary silence, and then the sound returned from inside. The Lore Eater realized that the library resisted its foul magic, yet, it didn’t need it to find its runaway prisoner.

“Lorelei!” the Quenreynn called with a malicious hiss. “Come back to me, dear. Granny misses you already.”

“She is up here,” said Zosime as she peered from the second floor. “Would you like to come up here?”

Before the Quenreynn took another step, Prospero lunged at the creature and took another swipe. New wounds opened.

“No!” cried Zosime. “Let her come.”

Prospero disengaged from the Quenreynn. The beast leaped up to the second floor with a loud thud. The floor rumbled. It towered over Zosime. She realized the monster was bigger than the last time she saw it. The old librarian met its angry gaze with defiance.

“Where?” asked the Lore Eater, salivating.

Zosime stepped aside and pointed to a lone table inside a dark room. On top of it was a scroll.

“She became her true form again… unfortunately.”

“Finally!” cried the Quenreynn, pushing aside Zosime. It strode with long steps, eagerly reaching out at the scroll as it drooled with the hunger of a thousand years. Because of its greed, it didn’t notice the etched runes on the floor that encircled the table. It devoured the lore written on the scroll. The writings disappeared, becoming mist that the beast sucked in. It laughed with a rasp as it hungrily ate. It crumpled the parchment as soon as it was finished and threw it to the ground.

“She tastes so good!” claimed the Quenreynn.

“Who?” asked Zosime.

“Lorelei,” the beast hazily answered. Its mind wallowed in the ecstasy of its feast. “It feels so satisfying to have finally devoured that one!”

“I guess,” answered Zosime nonchalantly.

“So, do you think your little spell on the floor could keep me in here forever?”

“No. It will keep you in long enough for my Prospero to destroy you.”

The Quenreynn laughed. Its voice shook the whole library. “I am already healed from my wound, stupid human. I am stronger after that meal. I will kill your cat, and then you, pesky little girl!” It screamed and punched the magical barrier around it, shaking the building, until the darkness receded and revealed the endless shelves of ancient scrolls. The Quenreynn paused, surprised at what it saw. It salivated at the scene of a never-ending meal. It heard the murmurs, the soft cries of fear from the ancient texts, and it resumed its attack on the barrier laughing with glee.

Zosime was unfazed. Behind her appeared Lorelei, trembling at the sight of the creature and what it could do to the others like her.

“I thought…” Lorelei gasped.

The Quenreynn stopped and hissed. “You deceiver!” It pounded again, furious at the deception, until it suddenly felt a sharp pain in its belly. It fell on its knees and roared in violent agony. “What did you feed me?”

Zosime smirked before answering. “Gossip, my unwitting foe—gossip disguised by powerful magic. I should thank this morning’s tabloid! You sensed the magic, yet, you didn’t realize you were eating newspapers. It is a good thing that a creature like you could never learn how to read.”

The Quenreynn began to struggle. It felt a thousand storms in its gut. It wanted to escape the trap it fell for. From the outside, a black shadow of death charged inwards and crossed Zosime’s magical barrier. Prospero raked a long gash on the Quenrynn’s back. The beast screamed, still defiant even in the face of death. Prospero maneuvered for another rake. This time across the beast’s face. It was forceful and deep. The black cat, bloodied and angry like a grumpy old man, ended the life of a Lore Eater. It was a feat not easily done. The Quenreynn’s body slowly turned to stone, cracked, and crumbled. Its green blood became dust, blown out the door by the library.

Prospero made his way and curled around Lorelei’s legs, before sitting beside the girl to lick his wounds.

Lorelei reached for the cat and hugged Prospero tight. The cat resisted, not wanting to smear blood on the girl’s garments, but Lorelei relented and embraced the cat tighter. She cried while wiping the blood on Prospero’s fur with her shirt. She finally accepted what she was, yet it was unclear what she was supposed to do next.

New librarian. Sister. Caretaker.

The ancient texts whispered in unison.

“It seems that it has been decided,” Zosime said after dusting herself.

“What do they mean?” Lorelei asked, stroking Prospero’s head. The cat purred with delight.

“It means the Infinite Library has chosen an assistant. Tell me, dear, would you like a job?”

 

Philippine Copyright © 2024 by Mark Aldwin Del Rosario