The Littlest Library

by Poppy Alexander

“there was a suggestion it could be a sort of book swappy hub thing.” She waved her hand vaguely. “Where people come and take books, or donate them—or both—not sure, something along those lines anyhow . . .” Jess raised her hand. “You mean,” she clarified, “a book swap where people come along and—say—borrow books and bring them back afterward, aka a library?” “Yes, I hadn’t thought but, I suppose so.” “Because libraries are something I know about,” admitted Jess shyly. “Amazing,” exclaimed Diana, all thoughts of cocktail bars and discos forgotten. “A village library in a phone box. Superb.”

Should she return to something like her old life: familiar, safe, dull? Or should she pursue the possibility of the new life she had glimpsed in these few short months here in Middlemass: risky, aggravating, exciting and—as far as romance was concerned—potentially, so, so painful?

I feel like everyone should ask themselves this question myself included.