The violins tease me. Come! Come dance! The enchantress waits. I hear the song and feel the touch of her hand. She invites me to dance. Unsure, I sway. Why me? I look into her eyes and know. We hold hands and move and turn and turn and turn as the melancholy air dissolves and the tempo quickens. Turn, turn, turn, turn. She spins while I hold her hand. We twirl as the melody takes us skywards, higher and higher towards brightness. We dare. My head spins. My heart beats to the music. I am the music. My love is the music. We are the music. We are alive.
Straight from the library – the strange and bizarre, ready to be checked out! From a patron's missing wetsuit to the scent of crab cakes wafting through the stacks, I Work at a Public Library showcases the oddities that have come across Gina Sheridan's circulation desk. Throughout these pages, she catalogs her encounters with local…
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