Sitting in a far too quiet library-arched ceilings and faded globes stretched on canvas lining the walls dont move too much or the librarians will stare at you-type of quiet. Waiting for a chandelier to crash appropriately to the ground and shatter all timid silence. Waiting for any sound, any change. Pages turn, no chandeliers have fallen. Its been half an hour. The boy with glasses across the room keeps coughing, clearly a rebel without a cause.

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