The Secret Keeper – In the Library
I sat back in my overstuffed, favorite chair, reminiscing about my life. I had accomplished much in terms of wealth, but were the sacrifices worth it? I am still wondering that, thinking of how I could have been a better person all these years. Now at seventy-five could I have been as satisfied, less lonely, and not as dedicated to my work? As I rested my head and closed my eyes in my personalized library, thoughts turned to my youth.
As a boy I had the usual dread every morning, before the rise of the sun. My alarm or a poke from my father, would alert me to the time. Timing even then was important in my young life, for I had a job, a paper route. Many, mostly friendly customers of mine didn’t protest if I was a bit late, but then there was old Mr. Brown, the last one on my circuit. Every morning, no matter what time, early or late, he’d be standing in his doorway, impatient look on his face, waiting for the news to be delivered.
When I think of it now, he was probably the best motivation I could have had at an impressionable age. I provided a valuable service which he paid for. It was my responsibility to deliver the paper on time, unharmed, and in a courteous manner. Unlike other boys in my group of friends, my job was year long. I didn’t mow lawns or shovel snow, I just ran papers around the neighborhood.
This sense of responsibility while remaining an actual “labor free” job, did much to urge me on to other similar vocations. I became an early riser out of habit and continued to be, as a professional editor. The newspaper delivery business was just a stepping stone bringing me into the view of actual newsmen, reporters and editors. I thoroughly enjoyed every aspect and tried my hand at them all. I read voraciously while at college and spent hours in the library, either studying, or reading for pleasure.
After realizing editing was my best application, I researched even more on how to be the best. I was fortunate to receive life’s gifts after hard work and perseverance, finally owning my own publishing company. I am proud of my accomplishments.
I suddenly felt extremely tired, my daydreaming was coming to an end. I needed to get up and seek out my bed. As I tried to rise, I felt very light. I rose up and was shocked to see my body still seated. I felt dizzy, thought I might faint, when I realized I was being lifted, floating into the ceiling of the library. Except the ceiling was no longer there and my body in the chair was seeming further and further away. I felt incredibly light and carefree. Perhaps all the fantastical books I had read were actually true. I surely hope so.
The Bag Lady 