I couldn't deny the fact that I was excited. I'd always heard stories about the woman my old man was always chatting with, about her advice and  adventures. She seemed like the kind of person you could both have fun with or share deep psychological thoughts with. Regardless of what my father said, she was always surrounded with an air of mystery. As the taxi pulled up to the old building, I found my curiosity growing like a roaring fire in my chest, just waiting to be sated by the knowledge of this new being. 

My father spoke of her like a friend, and I could tell that their relationship never extended any further than that. I was surprised that despite his seeming fondness for the woman, this was the first time that we would formally meet. I grabbed my suitcase from the cabbie's trunk and tipped the man before he nodded his head and drove off down the road back towards the big city. I was now alone on the desolate street, staring down a peppy building advertised as "The Midnight Reader", an old school bookstore filled with both stories and shadows from the look I got peeking in through the store front. A couple of bookshelves seemed disheveled and disorganized, barely constituting a professional atmosphere, especially when the mess in question was supposed to be the product on sale. I could tell why this person may need an extra hand in there. 

I tenderly grasped the bronze door knob, hesitating to make my way inside. As far as my father told me, the woman was nice and friendly, but I still had this gut feeling that I didn't belong in this place. Despite the cheery atmosphere of the small town, I found that my body almost pulled away from this one shop with an instinctual sense of 'danger'. After a moment, I violently shook my head to rid my mind of such odd thoughts, turned the doorknob, and slipped inside.