The old man wakes at one a.m. His ritual has begone. Leave the bed, brush his teeth, get dressed, and pour a cup of black coffee. He shuffled down the spiral stair case into his library. The young man at the information station was trying to keep his eye open, staring down at the pages of a book.

“My is that one that boring?”

“Oh, sorry sir. I was just trying to pass the time, as we are open at truly strange times.”

“You say strange, I say that my best readers come now. That being said your shift is over, see you later tonight.” The young man gathered his belongings and sleepily walked to the front door, “Sir, by the way, that book isn’t finished is it?”

“Is not.” The old man winked, the young man shook his head and left.

The old man only had a couple of hours to pull books for his “best readers”. Below the library was an old wet basement. Vines and tree roots exposed for walls. The air was clean and alive. The old man made sure to thank the plants that keep his most prized books in excellent condition. These books were calling to their reader as the time grew closer to three. The old man picked up seven books he had not seen the night before.

The binding of these books were different. The wrinkles showed more that age, and the pages had stains of unknown origin. But these books were like nothing the old man had come across in all his years of caring for written works. But he knew his readers would want these.

Back up stairs, the first customer of the night had arrived, alerting the old man with the door chime. A beautiful woman dressed in all black.

“How are you? Do you need help?” She called to the old man.

“Is it that time already? You are always so punctual!” The old man was standing behind the information station with all seven books laid out in front of him. “So many guesses tonight, for your reading club? Many different widths tonight.”

“Many new members, also old man… do not let the young man read that book. It has not been finished and I would hate to ruin it for him.”

“He always seems to find it, or should I say it finds him?” They both smiled to each other, in an ominous way. Member one had entered the door, the chime causing the woman to turn around and greet them.

“Your book is on the end. Do not skip around, read it from cover to cover.” She smiled sweetly. The old man watched as the book at the end floated away to a cozy corner of the library. He always wonder what they looked like to the woman, but he was just the librarian of life and death.