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On I go to wonder and to learning
Jul. 27th, 2016 07:48 pmThere was a disturbing trend developing.
In the sleepless nights that made up Gansey's first week in Darrow, he'd stared at the title of a book. Questioning Darrow's History had been checked out and forgotten by the previous Gansey, the one that was him but wasn't. It was like he knew that he might be back and he wanted to remember that there was something to find. Every night, Gansey stared at the title, daring himself to look, hoping he could do so without getting obsessed. Fruitless, he thought.
The book was, as the title suggested, an intricate series of questions, looping in and over each other like a vine, doubling back like the ley line. People didn't talk about it, the book said. Investigating was ill-advised, the text said. And Gansey's fingers itched.
The Pig was there and she was as gorgeous as Gansey remembered. Its offensively orange exterior and too-hot leather interior were as they had been at home. The engine roared to life and sputtered out an environmentally ruinous form of protest. Or maybe it was excitement. Had the Pig been driven since Gansey's gone?
The library's smell was soothing. Gansey's entire life had been spent searching through walls as decorated as these, in places far away that had seemed strange until he'd been to the next one. Darrow took the cake. No amount of squatting toilets could compare to waking up in another dimension with all of your friends' making heavy allusions to your abandonment when you'd never left in the first place.
His anxiety climbed. He'd been through every floor of the place and nothing, nothing was called 'History.' There were sections, some of which touted American History, European History, Earth History, but not a thing on Darrow. As far as the stacks were concerned, Darrow had never existed outside of each individual moment of existence.
The books stacked high and Gansey felt small. The evidence didn't add up and Gansey felt determined. He sighed and looked around for someone to ask about this strange turn of events.
In the sleepless nights that made up Gansey's first week in Darrow, he'd stared at the title of a book. Questioning Darrow's History had been checked out and forgotten by the previous Gansey, the one that was him but wasn't. It was like he knew that he might be back and he wanted to remember that there was something to find. Every night, Gansey stared at the title, daring himself to look, hoping he could do so without getting obsessed. Fruitless, he thought.
The book was, as the title suggested, an intricate series of questions, looping in and over each other like a vine, doubling back like the ley line. People didn't talk about it, the book said. Investigating was ill-advised, the text said. And Gansey's fingers itched.
The Pig was there and she was as gorgeous as Gansey remembered. Its offensively orange exterior and too-hot leather interior were as they had been at home. The engine roared to life and sputtered out an environmentally ruinous form of protest. Or maybe it was excitement. Had the Pig been driven since Gansey's gone?
The library's smell was soothing. Gansey's entire life had been spent searching through walls as decorated as these, in places far away that had seemed strange until he'd been to the next one. Darrow took the cake. No amount of squatting toilets could compare to waking up in another dimension with all of your friends' making heavy allusions to your abandonment when you'd never left in the first place.
His anxiety climbed. He'd been through every floor of the place and nothing, nothing was called 'History.' There were sections, some of which touted American History, European History, Earth History, but not a thing on Darrow. As far as the stacks were concerned, Darrow had never existed outside of each individual moment of existence.
The books stacked high and Gansey felt small. The evidence didn't add up and Gansey felt determined. He sighed and looked around for someone to ask about this strange turn of events.
