Lake Lewisia #260

[scrubjayspeaks]

The librarian ran the duster over the edges of the picture frames throughout the main branch, yawning at the end of the day. The photographs of town founders, unsmiling in their trapper’s furs, looked out into the room, keeping watch over the collection and patrons both. Sometimes she imagined, a bit guiltily, the olden days when those photographs had awakened to defend the library in times of crisis, guardians in silver mercury.

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LL#260