THE MOST RELIABLE OF ALL
March 2014: Mme Dienne LaCarétt, mother of post-neo-colonial orthonarcotics, looked up and down, high and low, walking the length of the long, long rows of tall, tall shelves. And she walked this way back, scouring each spiny wall like a hungry tapir homing in on rotting fruit obscured by fallen leaves.
Eventually a librarian noticed, approached, and asked “May I help you find what you’re looking for?” “Nope” said Dienne, crisp and sure, as she walked along. “Have you used the catalogue, at least?” the librarian queried. Dienne stopped and looked over her determined adversary. “Nope” she said again. The librarian persisted. “I can help if you like.” “You cannot,” Dienne offered softly. Leaning into the end of a row of shelves, the librarian rebutted warmly and with a smile, “It’s my whole job. It’s what I’m trained to do.” “Oh no, no offence at all, my dear. It’s not you. It’s your catalogue. Doesn’t work!” “Oh, was the computer down?” the librarian enquired, suggesting further, “That happens occasionally. I can help with that, too. And if not, our tech lady can.” Dienne returned, “No, no, your computer works as intended. Of that I’m sure.” Confused, the librarian asked, “Well, can I point you in the right direction at least. To a topic area or maybe some relevant material? We’ve changed things around in recent months and have confused a lot of folks.” Dienne looked, smiled and started walking again. “Nope”, she said with her head down. “Well, you’re welcome to browse all you like,” the librarian assured her. Dienne nodded and turned, taking up a path in reverse to her previous scourings.
