The dust particles seemed to glitter in the shafts of sunbeams. they swirled and danced, flying in all directions at the slightest change of wind. A pair of drowsy eyes watched their movements with a trance-like aura. Dark lashes blinking slowly every now and then over a pair of deep chocolate coloured eyes. The young woman twirled a slender index finger between the sunbeams. Leaving out a sigh that shot the dust particles into a frenzy.

Around her were old stacks of dust-covered ancient tomes. One of the books in particular was laid open on her lap. it was decorated with intricate detailing and illustrations. Only minutes before, she had been absorbed in it content, until something had made her stop and think. carefully turning the page, her thoughts had come back to the book again. She was in quite a cramped space. Leaning against an old wooden press that had even more dusty books both on and inside it. The book she was reading was so close to her face given the fact her knees were raised from where her feet were resting against the exact same press on the other side. Equally full of clutter. In the dim light that was flowing in from an open door, it was a wonder she could read at all. Her eyes followed the words carefully, taking in every detail as she traced the illustrations. She was completely lost in the book and the world it conjured inside her mind, filled with the images her imagination created and the words provided on paper.

"Emory?!"

The sudden cry snapped her back to reality and her eyes flitted from the page to the open doorway. It was her name that had been called and biting her lip, she hoped she wasn't in too much trouble. Closing up the book she tucked it carefully into the press behind her before unfolding herself from the position she'd held. Grimacing slightly as her legs protested against the sudden freedom. Closing the door behind her she massaged her neck as she made a bearing through a cluttered hallway and in through another doorway to the main room.

Avoiding eye contact with the old man waiting on her, Emory instead pretended her feet were the more interesting party. If there was one thing she didn't want,it was a lecture.

"Sorry Charlie, I was looking for a book and got held up.2

A quick glance up told her his raised eyebrow knew better than to believe her excuse. As always he chose to overlook it.

"Well, be that as it may, Dora here is looking for something to help her with her garden and I would be relieved if you could assist her, there's some errands I need to attend to."

Emory looked to the woman in question, she was elderly and leaning on a walking cane. Head full of white curls and a gentle face that made her eyes twinkle when she smiled. Emory was familiar with her, having helped the lady out on many an occasion.

"Of course, it's no problem. Dora, I'll get you sorted in no time."

The lady smiled brightly and nodded in response.

"Now Emory, think you can hold the fort for a little while?" asked Charlie.

She nodded and with a 'Hmmpfh' of acknowledgement, Charlie disappeared through the door she'd just entered. Turning back to the woman she smiled.

"Ok then, if you want to follow me, I know we have quite the collection on gardening just over here." she said as she held an arm out in the direction she was speaking of.

Emory worked here part-time. It was quite a big building nestled in the centre of town. If you could call the place they lived a town. Fifty years ago, a young ambitious twenty-five year old Charlie had come across the place on his travels and invested all his savings into it. What had once been a an old church left to the ruin of time and weather, he converted into a bookstore. In his youth he had turned it into the hip place-to-be, even sectioning off one part into a cafe area. People would come for tea or coffee and a good read. Business had been plentiful. These days it wasn't as prosperous but it's rustic charm and homely feel still attracted quite a few regulars and occasional new faces. Charlie was the life and soul of the place however. His dedication and passion for the store had not once wavered and that rang true every day. She herself had started working there four summers ago when she was just sixteen. Now at twenty-one, she couldn't imagine herself anywhere else. She loved books and the people she met through here. Most of the customers were over sixty, but that only made them a hundred times more interesting. She loved listening to their stories and how life had once been for them. It made her days better. Her favourite time in the store however was summer. They could leave the two large oak doors open. Welcoming in both customers and the sunshine. And the old stained glass windows left colourful beams all over the shop. Summer also meant she could spend more time here. The past few years, with school, she had been confined to working weekends and the odd late evening. But with summer her schedule was wide open for availability and now she'd finished highschool she hoped this time when summer ended, her time there didn't.

After sending Dora on her way with three or four books laden with information on roses and fuschias of all sorts, Emory took a minute to glance around the store, seeing if anything needed tidying up. Deciding there wasn't much to be seen to she resorted to clearing abandoned volumes off the seating area. There was one or two people dotted around there with the heads buried in their own interests. As she picked up a copy of Kerouac's On The Road a hand stopped her. Hesitating she glanced up to find a young man looking up at her, one hand resting over hers to pause her, the other safely marking his position in the book his was reading.

"Sorry, I don't mean to stop you, I just.. would you mind if I kept that one?"

Nodding at him she smiled politely.

"Sure, sorry about that. Quick spring cleaning means I just pick up whatever was laying about. Here you go" she handed him back the book and grinned, "Good choice by the way"

Pushing a strand of her back from her face she bit her lip and continued her rounds of the tables. Something about his blue eyes had stunned her momentarily. Arms heavy with her collection she made her way back to the front desk, dodging stacks of more books as she did. She deposited them next to it, it was how she worked. Now she'd separate them into genres and then alphabetical order before re-dispensing them around to their rightful places. Glancing back over at the tables as she knelt next to them, Emory's eyes found the guy she had briefly spoken with. He was back with his head in the book, she watched his dark hair and the way he bobbed slightly as he read the words. Shaking off the curiosity she turned back to the books.

'You read too many fiction works' she thought to herself.