There is a library. The inside moves and changes like an unwritten story, unseen mechanics moving the shelves left to right and up to down. Ladders stem to unreachable places, the knowledge the tomes hold speeding out of reach. Looms weave tapestries, fibers and threads turning into great worlds of fabricated art. The noise of the well-kept machines keep the shelves of books moving at a quickened pace. One’s mind would need to quicken along with the knowledge in order to merely keep up. Is the library growing, or are the stories simply being rearranged over and over in never-ending motion?
Outside is still, a reflecting pool of cool water just outside the glass doors, keeping the ever-moving shelves visible for anyone wishing to relax, away from the jumble of letters and words and stories. The ripples in the water turn the picturesque sky into a mirage. The ground is sandy, rocks strewn about. The water is level with the ground, but not a speck of sand is at the bottom of the pool. It remains clean and untouched. The water kisses the skin gently, never causing goosebumps or shivers.
A cliff is in the background, a van with two unlikely friends speeding from east to west pass by, never getting to their destination. Their author has yet to write the end of their journey. So they perpetually drive past the library, moving but not getting anywhere. The west coast still tens of thousands of words from their current limbo.
There is a building off in the distance to the left, a monument of metal and glass, symbolizing corporate America in all its hypocritical glory. There are only two inside the multi-story erection. They have been carrying on a forbidden tryst for quite sometime. They cannot end their affair or move to the next level. Their author has not written anything past the seeds of lust and the bloom of romance. They, too, are trapped in their own messy limbo, waiting to know how their own tale ends.
Off in the distance, a makeshift family weaves their way through another set of adventures, staying true to each other no matter what the situation. A boy, once lost, finds his place in his new family. His guardians change those around them, making a place for said boy during the twilight of their own lives. Those around them join the foray, entertaining each other and their readers time and time again with their antics and misadventures. They are near the end of their most recent journey, with many more on the horizon. Their author just has to fill in the missing words.
The author ignores the moving of the books and shelves and weaving looms. He lowers himself into the pool, relaxing in the water, ignoring everything but the unfinished work around him. He knows where the road the van is on leads, and he knows the fate of the unlikely friends inside. He knows how the lovers’ affair ends up and how their lives will forever change because of it. He knows how the makeshift family deals with their latest adversities and the ones that will follow. He just needs to write their endings and continuations.
But for now he enjoys the water and the cool night around him, keeping the library to his back.