So this story is creepy. Not Stephen King-creepy, not keep-you-up-at-night creepy, but creepy enough to jolt you awake without your second cup of coffee.
At least it was for me. Because this is what happened. I stopped at the library the other day on the way to work with my usual giant bag of overdue books. No big deal. The library was crowded, like it always is. There's a story hour in the morning, so there are dozens of moms and little kids running around, and there's just a nice, warm atmosphere all around.
I love the library. So making a quick stop is actually a pleasure for me, not a chore.
Now our library has just revamped its depository system - you can only put in one book at a time, and you have to do it a certain way ... I don't know why. Maybe people were being careless, you know, jamming it up. So there's an outside book deposit and an inside one. I decided to go in because it was freezing and I'm a wimp.
(I know, I know - this story is SO not creepy yet - but just wait).
Anyhoo, so I'm putting my books in the book depository, which as everyone knows, is just a big giant door that opens, and when I put the last book in I feel a HAND TOUCH MY HAND. Just think about that a minute. A hand - from inside the book deposit - touching your hand!!!!! Now that is creepy - you have to agree, right? Okay, it didn't grab me, and it wasn't cold or skeletal or bony, and it actually just brushed my fingers, but STILL. Peel me off the ceiling, folks. That is not where I'm expecting a warm friendly touch.
I know, I know. It was likely just a hapless librarian, working the other side to clear out a jam or unload the already crowded bin, but it didn't matter.
After that invisible touch, I drank decaf til noon.
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