WeirdCityReport

They stand tall and looming, great halls with walls lined top to bottom with bookshelves, prominent displays of information, knowledge, and imagination. They rest quaintly in tucked-away corners of schools or community centres. humbly but freely offering free knowledge. They were once fountains of enlightenment: of reports and stories, of poetry and data. A paradise for passionate, wandering bibliophiles–a meeting grounds for chatty scholars.   The keepers of these places knew every title that passed through their counters and into their shelves. They took their pride in protecting the stories, the tales, the ideas that were encased i

There was quite the brawl in the public square today. It was Sunday, so I did not work as the norm. I was sitting beneath a tree, listening to the sounds of the people mulling about whilst penning my manuscript. Suddenly, my reverie was interrupted by the sound of some loud quarrel of young men across the square. I knew who they were even before I looked up from my quill and paper. The rabble-rousers were the Montagues and the Capulets—again. Quite frankly, I should not be one to complain, as I benefit from their feud in my work as a scribe. Scribes do not simply write the events and doings of history, whether their own or some other&#

They stand tall and looming, great halls with walls lined top to bottom with bookshelves, prominent displays of information, knowledge, and imagination. They rest quaintly in tucked-away corners of schools or community centres. humbly but freely offering free knowledge. They were once fountains of enlightenment: of reports and stories, of poetry and data. A paradise for passionate, wandering bibliophiles–a meeting grounds for chatty scholars.   The keepers of these places knew every title that passed through their counters and into their shelves. They took their pride in protecting the stories, the tales, the ideas that were encased i

Oh, gosh. I sucked on my cigarette and then exhaled harshly. As soon as I saw her climb out of the station, I knew. The awestruck wide-eyed look on her face, the wonder as she took in the bright lights and bustling nightlife around her…I’ve seen it time and time again. She’s the young hopeful, come to the big city to make it big or die trying. Countless kids have walked up the steps of Pennsylvania station and stood in exactly the same place she’s in right now. In fact, I did too…some long-gone August evening years ago. Leaning against the phone booth in front of Clancy’s, I observe the girl as she sn