||ย angelsflatlineย inquired:ย โ tell me your story . โ me grabbing resse and squeezing her like littol squeaky toy-- ||
"ย Myย story? "
Visions of the preturbed library revert back to the man sitting next to her on the "local" desk, his own hues of non-pitch ' obvious exhaustion piercing curiosity towards the brown with bright white own ' . A curiosity of the world where Ms. Harris had left behind, in order to venture deep into another one, different from the ' plane before, despite the plane technically the same as her ownย 'ย . The detective kept the stare, wondering what sort of story stopped the man from standing in place, ignoring her presence, as if she was another presence in the library to ' envision within life, within death, and after revival, in a sequence of undesirable consultations ' .
" There are many stories within this facility, Mr. Roland. As much as I would beย delightedย to tell you more of myself, I belive it is not as..ย uniqueย as the many books you see around you. "
She raises a hand towards what she could tell was the sky-felt like ceiling, her eyes wandering from corner to corner, as the ' shelves of the books reached ever to the ceiling if not lower ' .
" At least one of these books will tell my story, unless you truly desire a storytellerย rather than a storybook. "
