The schoolgirl ran her finger across the book spines on the shelf.
She had been asked to write an essay on storms, how they are formed and the damage they can cause. She settled on a large volume that dealt with the world’s worst disasters. She felt sure she’d find something she could use. She was carrying it to a desk when the lady with a trolley of returns rounded the end of the nearby isle. She paused and looked across at the girl.
Pushing her trolley closer, she said, “Just be careful with that one, young lady.”
The girl looked up. “Careful?”
“Yes. It can be problematic?”
“Problematic?”
“It has been known to cause trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“Yes. We’ve had accidents.”
“Accidents?”
“Yes, just be sure you don’t leave the book open at one spot for long.”
“Spot?”
“Yes. Page. Don’t leave it open at any given page for too long.”
“Page?”
“Look! You seem to be repeating everything I say.”
The girl shrugged. “I just don’t understand what you’re telling me, that’s all.”
A glimmer of a smile. “Yes. Well, OK. It is difficult I suppose. Anyway, just be careful.” She smiled awkwardly and moved on, pushing her trolley down another isle.
The girl checked the index for storms and turned to the page. It was very detailed with photographs of the devastation caused, coloured charts giving meteorological data, and descriptions of the events. It described how large regions had been ravaged, reaping massive destruction and creating unbelievably high death toll figures.
After several minutes of note-taking, she went looking for a toilet. After several more minutes, she returned.
As she approached the desk, a great booming roll of thunder seemed to swirl around the outside of the library and a tremor started to vibrate up through the floor. This was followed by an almighty crack of lightning that seemed to be directly over the building. The lights flickered and books began dropping from shelves.
She ran forward and closed the book.