Booking the trend

Her sense of adventure drove her Ford, Focus was not her strong point. It often drove her to Distraction, the packed arcade she hated. Realising her errant journey, she slapped her face hard. "Girl, that Mustang!", muttered a passerby. 

It snapped her back to reality and off she went. Leaving civilisation behind, she headed for a place long forgotten but with many stories. She abandoned her car and walked the rest of the way. 

Moving between the reads her eyes scanned the fallen trees, beaten to a pulp. They danced across the tall tails huddled in this most ordered of worlds. Then she saw it, a young buck, the one she came to see. She reached out and grabbed its spine, it lay in her hands as she gazed upon her trophy.

She brought it to be checked, out in the open, away from the shelter of the columns of scribes. It was her first time and a bead of sweat crashed to the floor. She instantly regretted wearing her most prised possession. She’d torn her grandmother’s sweat infused pearl necklace from her dying grasp and worn it as her own.

The pearls scuttled along the floor, past the sections marked “Wild” and “Winter” and came to a halt, atop a fallen sign, “Wisdom”. 

She collected her pearls off "Wisdom" and her aquatic marine mammal. She walked with real porpoise towards the bespectacled gentleman to make his mark.

“ISBN expecting you”, his strong Italian accent caught her by surprise.

She stood in silence, not sure how to respond.

“Check you out!”, his gaze dropping below her face.

She stood in silence, not sure how to respond.

“Your book, Ma’am.”

She placed it on the desk and within seconds his scan was complete.

She reached for her new Tennant, Emma smiled at the man. He held on a little too long and whispered “If it’s late, it’s a fine”.

"GRAZIE!" 

“What a nice man, a little odd” she thought, “wait, ‘it’s a fine’?”