The Land in the Sky

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© 2018 writing-for-fun-96 All Rights Reserved.

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"The Realm of Fairy is a strange shadow land, lying just beyond the fields we know." ~Author Unknown

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Darkness sprinkled across the sky, as I locked the glass doors of the library. Today was no different than any other Thursday I worked.

Any books that were returned, needed to be put back by the end of the night. Sometimes we were too busy to put them in their rightful spots during the day, so it was saved for last. Every time I worked, I sent the others home after close to get time to myself.

It wasn't a normal sized library since I lived in a very small town outside of Denver, Colorado. There was maybe five-hundred people in total, making this place easier to clean up after locking the doors.

After I stocked the shelves back up, I proceeded into the back office where some of our donated books sat. Since we were a smaller town, our funding wasn't the greatest. Fran, the owner, always brought novels and such back from other atheneums, to fix and put up in ours.

She had a pile of books that she wanted to be put into the system and since she was almost the age of 60, it was my job to "work that darn electronic contraption' as Fran stated.

Plopping down on the chair, I turned on the computer and began typing in the serial numbers and such. Eventually I had a flow going and before I knew it I had one left.

I picked it up delicately, the book appearing old with a leather-bound cover and the title etched into the front. My hazel eyes scrunched in confusion as I tried to read it.

"The. . . Land," Tracing the letters with my finger to distinguish each letter, I whispered to myself. "in the Sky."

There was no author name or any clue as to who could've possibly written the book. Curiosity got the best of me so I carefully opened it. My heart hammered, my mind shocked at what I saw. Hastily I began flipping through every page.

I blinked my eyes a couple times in astonishment before I swore, "What the fuck?"

Each sheet of paper was blank, not a single page number or smudge anywhere. I wasn't sure what to make of it, so I shrugged my shoulders and tossed it in the trash bin.

Once everything was ready to set up for the next morning, I headed out into the night. The air was cold, the autumn chill causing me to shudder. I gripped the collar of my thin sweater as I hurried across the street to Eric's Dine and Go.

Every night after work, I would get a bowl of soup and a slice of the pie-of-the-day. Like everything else, this diner was part of my routine.

The jingling bells above the door indicated my arrival. I scurried into the booth farthest away and pulled out the novel I was currently reading.

"Hello, Rae," Eric, the owner of the diner greeted me. "The usual tonight?"

Nodding my head, "Like always. Thank you."

He chuckled lightly, his eyes wrinkling as he did so, "You know trying something different won't kill you right?"

I rolled my eyes, "Yes but we both know it's not what I want."

His short golden hair swayed as he nodded, "Okay, okay. It'll be up shortly, hun."

I watched his tall frame head to the back of the diner, where the kitchen was situated. Within a few minutes, hot broccoli cheese soup sat in front of me.

Like every time before, the smell taunted my tastebuds. My hand gripped the spoon as I blew, cooling the food down before slurping it up.

"Everything is good?" Eric checked on me.

I smiled, "As per usual."

Suddenly, the owner scooted his way into the both across from me. His bright blue eyes boring into my hazel ones, speaking quiet enough for only me to hear. "You know I enjoy having you come in every night since you started working at the library five years ago. You're a great costumer you never argue or complain. You're basically apart of this diner now. Even my newbies know your name.

"But you're also my friend. And I just have to ask, friend-to-friend, don't you ever want to change things up a bit?"

I was taken aback by his frowardness.

He was right. I had been coming here for five years. And throughout those five years, Eric had become a close friend, maybe even my best friend. Whenever I was upset or freaking out, he was there. Whenever I needed to vent, he was there.

Not only that but we were a lot alike with our love for books, terrible jokes, and fear of heights. But one thing he didn't understand about me was my need for regimens. Most of the time, I didn't either, but it was something I had been doing for almost five years now. Something I was terrified to change.

Plates and silverware clattered in the back, jarring me from my thoughts. I had been staring at Eric for awhile and realized how creepy I must've seemed.

I cleared my throat, directing my eyes anywhere but the man in front of me. "I don't like change."

He grimaced at the same response I always used. "Even that still stays the same."

And just like every other time before that, the owner slid out of the booth, me grappling for his arm. However, I said something different, hoping Eric would take it as my apology, "Having a routine makes things easy, simple. Simple means invisible. And that's. . . exactly what I want to be."

His eyes widened, silence spilling between us. My heart hammered, terrified what was going to happen. This is why I never strayed from tradition. I hated this kind of anxiety and fear.

My need to run was almost unbearable, until I caught Eric's eyes. They were no longer angry or surprised and his voice had gone back to normal when he said, "I'm glad the foods good. I'll grab you a slice of pie. On the house today."

With a wink, he left me all alone once again. Regret washed over me, my mind screaming at me for even speaking those words.

My eyes were staring blankly where Eric had been standing. But I forced them away like I did my thoughts. Gazing back to my soup, I picked up the spoon I had been holding and resumed eating.