I sat down on my usual spot. The one in the far most corner from the door. The one where people don’t usually go to because the place looks isolated – a small table with two chairs. Everyone feels suffocated whenever they sat here. Maybe because the next tables are about a meter away. Some even said that his place is haunted. But I am the living proof that it is not. And besides he found me here.
My eyes wandered from shelf to shelf, breathing in the smell of books.
I smiled. It’s this place. It has always been this place. My safe haven. The public library.
***
3 years ago (July 23, 2016)
I am sitting on my favourite spot in the public library. It’s only been weeks since I discover this particular table. I went here on a weekday and every seat was occupied except this one. I’ll admit I was hesitant at first, who would sit in a corner where it seems like ghosts will come and say hi anytime? But I had no choice, it’s either I sit there or go home. That is when I realized it was actually a good place, quite far from the other library goers, quiet and peaceful. Ever since, I have taken this spot.
I am currently reading The Street Lawyer by John Grisham. And believe me, when I read, the whole world disappears except for the book and me. And that is why I didn’t notice the guy standing in front of me until he shook my shoulder.
“Excuse me??” I asked, a little irritated for being interrupted.
“I’ve been asking you for five times if I can sit here.” He said, his voice firm.
I looked at the other tables to see if I can direct him somewhere. It might be selfish, but I don’t want to share tables.
“If you’re looking for other available seats, there’s none.” He said. I looked somewhere, and there’s really none. How unfortunate.
“It’s not like I have a choice. Go ahead.” I told him.
“And it’s not like I want to sit with you.” He answered back. I rolled my eyes. “If only I have a copy of this book, I wouldn’t go here.” He said, holding up a Political Science book.
I shook my head and went back to reading. But somehow, I can’t concentrate. I am not used to having company, especially that of a stranger.
I put down my book and looked at him. It turns out he was looking at me.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
“You, obviously.” He snickered.
This guy is seriously getting on my nerves. “And just why are you staring?”
“I am just wondering why you are sitting here alone. It’s creepy, you know.”
“Well, I am not alone now since you sat here.” I answered. He just stared right at me. “Can you stop it? You are the one being creepy. And I can’t focus on my book while you’re staring.”
“Why? Is my stare that distracting?”
“Oh, please, don’t flatter yourself. It’s because you look like a maniac. Can’t you just read?”
“Oh, I’m just preparing myself.”
“By staring at me?”
He laughed, “Well, you’re the only pleasant view I can see in here. So, yes, by staring at you.”
I ignored his comment and tried to go back to reading.
“You’re blushing.” He commented.
“I am not. Can you please stop? I’m trying to read.”
