Red Strings Of Appriciation |PHAN|

3|Journal Entries

I waited at the desk, glancing towards the stairs occasionally, the man seemed to be taking his time. Did I change the book layout? Surely I would have remembered. Have I misplaced the book?  No, I can't have, I usually remember these things, and if I find as I might forget them I write them down in my journal --along with pointless thoughts and drifting ideas, not to mention many observations I had seen in and out of the shop, detailed inscriptions, intricate drawings and all-- I pulled open a draw within the desk to look for it, checking everything else was in place as I did so; keys, stationary, business cards, post-it notes. No journal. It seems I'd misplaced something else instead. I racked my mind for where I could have left it; not on or in the desk, maybe on a shelf, upstairs even. Yes that's it, I must have been arranging the books after closing, keeping my jour-nal with me incase I needed to jott anything down. It must have been left on the sofa.

I sighed, standing up to my full hight and sauntering to the staircase, laying my hand on the worn rail, and asend the stairs. Once I'd reached the top I saw the figure of the man stood in the far corner of the cramped room by the window flicking through a book, face stoic with concentration, like he was contemplating whether or not he'd be interested in the purchasing the item. He paused his gaze,  looking up at me and giving me a warm smile, something passed between us. I smiled back, craning my neck to one side, attempting to catch a glimpse of what he was reading.

"Have you found what you were looking for?,"I asked politely. 'This is normal right? Lots of shop clerks did this. Am I being invasive?' I thought.

"Not yet," he answered ," I've barely started looking, I seem to have stumbled upon a great book though, a bit patchy around the edges but wonderful all in all, the character when they state their experiences and 'goings on' is quite remarkable. They manage to express regret, compassion, guilt, remorse and kindness, in every word that seeps out onto the page." He said with a proud glans at the book. Uneasiness riled up inside me.

"Ah," I said grinning, "I'm glad you've discovered something you're interested in. May I? " I inquired gesturing to the book in his hands.  He passed it over to me smiling as he did. I
took one look at the open pages and slammed it shut. Uneasiness rose up inside me.
"I'm sorry Sir, this book is not for sale," I continued as cooling as I could, pretending I couldn't see the drop of delight in the man's expression, "It's my journal, I'd prefer to keep it that way." I finished with a sad smile.

"O-oh I'm sorry", the man stammered before composing himself,"I'm sorry for ivading your privacy." He whispered, looking down at his feet and letting his arms hang down by his side. I sighed, looking at him with a guiltily,"It is my fault for leaving it here, don't worry about it. You were looking for a M.R.James book weren't you?" I questioned turning and walking to a shelf, pulling down the book in question and handing it to him, giving him one last smile and running back down the stairs.

Hey! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know these chapters aren't the longest but I hope you like them never the less. Have a great day! ~Lucy