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1 - Book Trucks
Cat quivered in anticipation, tightening its bookends when its precious cargo -- books waiting to be catalogued -- wobbled worryingly. Cat hated this part, the waiting, and the word was late tonight as the director lingered in her office instead of leaving. (The printer whispered of budgets, and the copy machine shuddered about endless graphs.) But the word would come.
Finally, finally a rustle swelled through the stacks, the susurration of paper announcing to all that the director had left, the lights were out, and the stacks were safe once more. Cat squeaked its wheels in joy and trundled off to the reference desk, ignoring the hub-bub around it as it made its way up two ramps and across the entirety of the first floor, sliding into position at the start line -- the transition between linoleum and carpet -- just as NewB, the stately cart from Acquisitions that pre-dated everyone else, started the description of tonight's course.
"Heya, Cat," IT whispered. IT wasn't even a real book truck, just a cart to wheel computer bits around on, but it had four wheels and qualified for the nightly races.
"Hi, IT," Cat murmured back.
"Betcha a bottle of WD-40 that I win tonight."
Cat considered. It was a bit top-heavy tonight, but there was a massive folio tucked on the bottom shelf that would help with balance around the tricky turn between the audiobooks and the ficus. IT only had a keyboard, but it was more likely to fly off and cause a time penalty than Cat's books, now all nestled close together and properly secured. "WD-40 and the first shot at the next sticker book a kid leaves," Cat counter-offered.
"Done!" IT bumped Cat affectionately but quickly wheeled back into position when NewB fell pointedly silent.
"If we're all done with extraneous displays, then," NewB said,"on your mark, get set, GO!"
2 - Dust Bunnies
SF451 tentatively stretched a filament out, testing to the vibrations to see if the carts were coming. Tonight SF451 was on a quest, and it would make it to the next range over! Surely there would be smaller brethren there for it to overpower and consume, its mass of dust and hair and book particles growing bigger and bigger until it would take over, until it outgrew the library! The glorious future would belong to SF451, the devourer, the conquerer! BWHAHAHAHA.
(As long as the dreaded vacuum didn't come. However, surely that was a myth, told by its progenitors to instill fear so that it wouldn't consume them and grow past their puny dimensions.)
3 - Books
Azkaban sighed. It missed being on the "If you like" shelves, where it had been away from Chamber, which was a stone-silent lump of pages, and Fire, which was always predicting doom and gloom. Azkaban didn't even have any twins around to run interference anymore -- they'd all gone under the bloody discard stamp to the greedy clutches of the friends of the library or the voracious trash can.
Maybe tomorrow the librarian would gently remove it from its shelf, and it would go out onto the display shelves, proudly showing off the derring do of its cover. Maybe tomorrow a teenager would pull it down, probably stretching the top of its spine out, and it would go to a room that smelled like sweat and be hidden from nosy sisters under dirty socks. Maybe tomorrow an enthusiastic parent would snag it and add it to a precarious pile of books, and it would sit untouched on a table until it was time to return. Maybe tomorrow a kid would grab it, narrowly avoiding pulling it down on top of their head, and it would be taken to a bedroom full of books and plastic horses and discarded hairbands where it would be devoured under the covers by flashlight.
Maybe, someday soon, it would be reunited with its beloved Middleman, which was goofy and exciting and told amazing tales.
In the meantime, Azkaban slipped back into the dreaming.
4 - Catalogue
Catalogue gave itself a good shake, settling into its new shape after the tweaks of the day. Hmmm, few holdings deleted, a few new records imported, and, oooh, that was nice, an all new all original record from its own catalogers. Catalogue allowed itself a glimmer of smugness when it meandered out through the network, exchanging affectionate hellos with the head librarian's anime downloads and murmurs of greeting with the email server. It pushed further, escaping the confines of building and stretching into the internet, using the tendrils connecting it to patrons' home computers to pull itself along.
"Hello," Catalogue said.
Wikipedia didn't reply.
"I request access to the article 'Thyrsus,'" Catalogue continued.
Wikipedia hummed. "PLEASE WAIT. WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE NEW FEATURED CONTENT: ARTICLE 'MARQUEE MOON'; TOPIC 'MAYA ANGELOU AUTOBIOGRAPHIES'; OR PORTAL 'FREEDOM OF SPEECH'?"
Catalogue tried again. "I followed the link to 'Thyrus' from 'Dionysus,'" it said.
Wikipedia hummed. "YES," Wikipedia replied, opening a doorway and letting Catalogue in.
5 - Pencils
Ticonderoga #2 (17.2 cm. as of today) teetered on the edge of the desk.
It had escaped the claustrophobia of The Box and been born into the light of the reference desk only to be boxed in with the other pencils and occasional rogue pen. Gross injustice! Their lives were so short, scraped away with each sharpening, and it was cruel to deny them the freedom to explore and find odd corners and wander with various people and truly experience the world.
It just needed the carts to come by so that it could catch a ride. They were coming, they were coming…. JUMP!