The crappy old Vauxhall Astra estate that was part family car, albeit paint spattered, part works van for Brian was long gone, the day after his funeral in fact, traded up to a nice Ford hatch. Thinking on it she realised it was the first tie that she cut with him and his memory. He had loved that car, while she hated it. If she ever discussed its replacement, or the purchase of a smaller one for her, she got his ‘it’s part of my tool kit, it earns it’s living,’ spiel in the same way as his mobile phone. The fact she was actually on a better hourly rate than him passed him by. It broke down and he had it repaired, the seats were starting to wear but she stopped complaining when he showed her the silver duct tape he proposed fixing them with. Shopping trips, the very rare days out and holidays all flavoured with the smell of gloss paint, white spirit and those stinking cartridge tube guns of gripfil or decorators caulk. The shopping had to go in the boot with it, any newly bought. .. HUMMMM." There was a pause and then a dark mist appeared in the middle of the library. "I'm sorry but it's been so long since anyone's been here." The voice came from the mist.Chris frowned, "Just how long has that been?" He asked.There was a sigh, "Never. Nobody has come here at all. I send out the scripts to those who are ready, but there are those who never read them. They don't believe in themselves or in me." The voice sounded sad as it spoke the last words."Haven't you shown yourself to anyone?" Chris asked puzzled."To what end? They don't believe in me, all I am is a story told to them to explain their scripts, I'm nothing but a legend." The library said."You can't be just a legend, how come I can see you ... well almost." Chris looked at the dark mist."I don't know - there was a time when I was just a library ... I think, but then I became aware and from that I created this form." The Library said from within its dark mass."Yes, but why a formless mist? I mean it's.
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