A slice of sunlight peeked through the drapes and cut across the bed. As it reached the pillow and traveled over her face, Mona stirred and fought the idea of actually waking up. She hadn't heard her alarm and refused to open her eyes until absolutely necessary.

Today was supposed to be a mild fall day, according to last night's forecast, but Mona had never trusted the local weatherman and began planning a snuggly and layered outfit just in case. The sun began taking a more solid foothold in the march across her bed and the cheerful beams began to rouse her foggy senses. Finally the chimes of her alarm began to echo throughout her room. With a low grumble of disapproval, she fanned her comforter out like a Spanish matador. As it landed on the floor, Mona sat up in bed stretching at the shoulders and rubbing her eyes.

She'd never been one to care a whole lot about her appearance. So, she didn't pay much attention to her own reflection, beyond making sure there was no toothpaste on her chin. This morning was no different. After a quick splash of water on her face, some sunscreen, concealer (to give the illusion of having had a restful night of sleep) and Chapstick, she wrapped herself in a shapeless but velvety sweater, a fluffy scarf, threw on a hat and some sunglasses before grabbing her bag and skipping out the door.

Her mousy brown hair had always given her a bit of trouble. It was naturally quite wavy and never seemed to want to cooperate with any hairstyles outside of a messy ponytail or hiding it under a hat. This was all fine with Mona since she didn't care to make much of an effort in the first place. She thought of herself as rather plain looking and had given up trying to transform herself into anything better after a few failed makeovers in high school.

The only physical quality that she actually appreciated about herself was the color of her eyes. People often mistook them for brown at first glance but they were in fact a coppery amber. In the right light, people would sometimes do a double take and some would even ask if they could have a closer look. It used to creep her out but she had gotten used to it over the years and it barely phased her now. In the fall when there were shades of red, rust and gold everywhere, her eyes seemed to reflect the colors back and became even more striking.

The walk to the library was covered in a bright blanket of newly fallen leaves that made a satisfying crunchy sound under each and every step. The air was cool and fresh. The sky was clear and peaceful. When she arrived at the door, she paused for a moment. This was her favorite part. No other place smells quite like a library and it was one of the main reasons she had always wanted to become a librarian. It was second only to her love of literature and the escape that books had offered from the outside world.

Not many kids dream of growing up to organize books all day, but Mona had always had this dream. Her pursuit never wavered to astronaut or princess or even chef or ballerina. She knew, from the moment she read her first book on her own, that books would be a very big part of her life. As soon as she opened the door, the scent began to wash over her. Mona had always heard it described as musty but that was not how she thought of this appealing aroma.

Books are made up of paper, adhesive, and ink. When these materials degrade over time, they give off organic volatile compounds, which in turn produce a smell that's appealing to many people...herself included. The reason the smell is so appealing may be because it has a hint of vanilla. Or at least that is the underlying smell that always triggered the memories for her. Memories of hiding between the stacks and reading until it was closing time. These memories made up large chunks of her childhood and this had always been her sanctuary.

Now, when she would make her rounds to reshelve books, and saw a child or teen sitting cross-legged on the floor, in some far corner of the library, (with a small stack of books nearby or a small bag of snacks to munch on) as they absorbed themselves in some fantasy world that poured out of the pages and into their imagination, she smiled and tried her best not to disturb their "happy place".

Today it seemed extra quiet when she stepped behind the main desk and began to assess the number of tasks that were ahead of her. A fair-skinned woman with honey colored hair, swirled up into a messy updo, wheeled the returns cart around the corner and almost ran Mona over. "Jesus Mona!" she yelped as she brought the cart to an abrupt halt. "We should put a bell on you or something. You almost made me swallow my gum."

Claire was in her late 20's and definitely dressed the part of a librarian. She always looked a little like she was coming from a funeral or perhaps going to a job interview. On her wages, she really couldn't manage any designer labels but she really enjoyed online secondhand shopping for vintage pieces and managed to put them together in what Mona thought were very stylish (albeit a bit outdated) outfits. But, to be honest, Mona in no way considered herself an authority on style. Half the time she looked like she could be wearing her pajamas with a sweater over them...but that is what she liked. Comfort over fashion was a deeply ingrained motto for her.

Mona apologized while picking up the few books that had slid off the cart, with the abrupt stop. "Sorry Claire. I didn't see you or I would've gotten out of your way. Is there anyone else even in the building yet? It seems eerily quiet this morning."

"There have only been a few people so far and I think all of them have come and gone, just dropping off returns, I think. I haven't checked the drop box yet. Would you mind?" She gave a 'you are so helpful and I appreciate you smile' directed at Mona like she knew that she would jump at the task and, of course, she did. Returns were her favorite part of the job. Well, not 'returns' exactly...but rather wandering the stacks and helping people who had no idea where to begin looking for something...was her favorite part.

There were actually more books in the drop than she had been expecting. Organizing and returning them would take up a good portion of her shift. After piling them up on the cart, Mona began her long loop around the building to get them all back to their homes. She always liked to start in the reference room since the lovely scent of old books was the strongest there. She would often even take her first break there, sit with her little thermal mug of tea, open a few old books and meditate on how much she appreciated the simple things in life. Today, however, her cart was full and she knew that she needed to get to work.

Upon exiting the aromatic little room, and with her mind fuzzy from the enjoyment of the biblichor*, Mona herself almost ran into someone with the cart. Her travel mug rocked off the cart and hit the floor. Luckily Mona had taken into account her natural clumsiness when she purchased the heavy-duty mug, and no damage or spill resulted from the near accident. Just as she crouched down while apologizing, a hand reached the mug before her and she stood slowly as she watched the hand raise the item from the ground and place it back on the cart. When she looked up, a rather disheveled but oddly handsome man began apologizing in return.

"Please excuse my absentmindedness, I did not hear you and was, unfortunately not watching where I was walking." His voice raised the hairs on her arms and she almost forgot how to speak for a moment.

"No need to apologize, I too was not really paying attention. Thank you." Mona raised her mug in a sort of cheers gesture to punctuate her thanks.

He gave a small bow/nod and continued on farther down the aisle. Mona stood, frozen in place for a few moments until she realized that she was holding her breath. With an audible exhale she half laughed at herself and shook her head. "Get it together Mona! It's not like he is the first attractive guy you've ever seen." She then continued the dialogue in her head with, "although...he was very close just now...and it was almost as if he was aware of his effect on me. Did I see a smirk before he walked off or was that just my imagination?"

She quickly brushed the thought off and got back to work. The day stayed nice and sunny and cheerful beams poured through the tall windows of the library, painting their happy energy across the shelves and walls. What a great day to get off early and begin a nice long extended weekend.

The day passed rather quickly and her shift was soon coming to a close. Fall afternoons were getting a little darker. It was only around two-o-clock but felt more like six already. As she popped in her earbuds and settled on a mix of new age classical instrumentals, she made sure to look both ways before crossing the busiest intersection in this sleepy little burg. She got about three steps into the crosswalk when she heard a screeching of tires and a flash of light. There was a moment where she felt like she was falling and a sharp pain and then nothing...darkness and nothing.

- *Biblichor -the distinct fragrance of old books.