Ryan pushed the heavy cart containing at least on hundred books down the narrow library aisles, stopping occasionally to return the volumes to their proper place. To most people rummaging around a bunch of dusty books and periodicals would be a chore to be avoided at all costs, but Ryan was different, he loved feel of the books in his hands and the aroma of old manuscripts filling his nose, but especially the wealth of information found like buried treasure between the sometimes frayed covers. He was only eighteen, but already he knew what he wanted to do with his life, go to college, major in library science, and become a curator for some large research library. He wasn’t interested in checking books in and out, or sending out past due notices to tardy borrowers, no, he wanted to get into old manuscripts, first editions, and rare writings from days gone by. For now, though, just being able to work at something he truly loved was enough for him. He glanced at his watch, and said to himself, “Five minutes to closing, I better get hustling, it’s gonna take at least an hour to get all these put away!” Working at a quick pace, Ryan was almost finished restacking, when it happened, standing on the short step stool needed to reach the upper shelf, his foot slipped and he came tumbling to the floor, landing with a loud thud. The force with which he had hit the floor had been noisy enough that the head librarian, Miss Vance had heard it and brought her running. When she got to him, what she found was and unconscious Ryan, with blood trickling down his forehead.
Miss Vance practically ran to the rest room and wet a towel with cold water and rushed back to Ryan. When she got there he was trying to shake out the cob webs, but his head was pounding, and he was still too shaky to stand up. Miss Vance gently dabbed the blood from his brow and asked, “What in the world happened Ryan, you just must be more careful!?!” Ryan tried to stand up, but slipped back to the floor, only to be caught in Miss Vance’s arms. “Don’t try to get up yet,” she ordered in her usual stern voice, “just lie back and relax for a few minutes!” Miss Vance was a very strict and formal woman, about fifty Ryan guessed, with a manor that bespoke respect and decorum. No matter the weather or time of year, she always wore a white blouse, a medium length skirt, and a ladies blazer or jacket, usually gray or dark blue, while sometimes to add a little color she would wear a gay scarf around her neck. With her black hair pulled back in a severe bun, and her erudite personality, it wasn’t easy to carry on a conversation with her, let alone have any type of interpersonal relationship, but right now he was as close to Miss Vance as he ever had been, and in his hazy mental state due to his fall he wasn’t exactly sure what was happening. Although she wore unrevealing clothing and acted cool and aloof to her employees, Harriett Vance couldn’t disguise the fullness of her body which was dominated by a large full chest that she tried to keep hidden from view!
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