📜 𝚸𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝛐𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝚮𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 💚 - 𝚨 𝐋𝛐𝐤𝐢 𝐋𝛐𝐕𝐞-𝐒𝐭𝛐𝐫𝐲 📚

𝓟𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽

You excitedly tap your foot against the hard floor of the bus, eagerly awaiting the next stop—your stop.

"Are you feeling nervous or excited, dear?" An elderly woman with white hair glanced at your quick tapping, then at your face, and a kind smile spread across her wrinkled features.

"Oh, um... maybe a bit of both?" You admit. "I'm meeting my favourite author today." You give her a wide grin.

"That's nice, sweetie—I didn't realise young ones like yourself still read books."

"I'm older than I look." You chuckled.

She squinted at you intently, bringing her face close to yours to inspect your plump, youthful skin. "No, you are still young. But perhaps you have an old soul." She added.

"Perhaps.." You muse.

The bus slowing to a stop cut short your conversation with the friendly bus lady, and you swiftly stood up and said your goodbyes.

"Nice meeting you, Margaret." You squeezed past her and made your way towards the open bus doors, but overheard Margaret mumble to herself.

"How did she know my name? I've never met her before." Her mutterings conveyed confusion.

You hopped off the bus with a spring in your step and as the bus whizzed by, you waved at Margaret; peering at you through the window with a face still full of bewilderment.

"Sweet lady." You utter to yourself before excitedly skipping towards a little book shop that was hidden down one of the many cobbled alleys.

As you pick up your pace, you hastily reach into your satchel bag and pull out your favourite book. The book was tatty from being so frequently read, but this precious copy was the only one you wanted signed by the author. However, in your eagerness to remove it, your clumsy hand let it slide from your hold, and it landed in a puddle of murky water.

You let out a piercing shriek of frustration at your own incompetence and yanked it out of the water in a hurry. But it was too late; the pages had been soaked through to the centre and smeared with dark sludge. Instantly, your heart broke, and you plunged to the lowest depths of sadness.

Deeply sighing, you carefully shake off the excess drip and wipe it clean with the dress you're wearing, disregarding the fact that your tea dress is white and now you look unkempt. But the salvage of your rare and cherished book was more important than any garment you own or your appearance.

Pouting all the way, you resume a slow walk towards your intended location, albeit now having lost some of your enthusiasm because of your mishap.

Finally finding the covert store after scouring many side streets, you push open the creaky front door. An old-fashioned bell sounds above you, and you can't help but be charmed by its quaint antiquity.

"May I help you?" A voice spoke, and you instantly turned your attention to the slender young man who smiled at you. Immediately your eyes were drawn to the name tag he wore, which read, "Hi, I'm Willy, ask me for help."

"Hi Willy, I require some assistance, if you will. Can you point me in the direction of the book signing for the author T.W.H.?"

His cheeks flushed bright red at the mention of his name, and a shy grin spread across his face. "Ofcourse! There is a bit of a queue, but feel free to pick up a book and read as you wait in line." You anticipated that he would start walking, at which point you would quickly follow, but he remained stationary and continued to gaze at you blankly.

After a prolonged moment of being ogled in silence, you opted to end the awkward encounter.

"Uh, Willy-"