The Weekday One Hundred

The lights were already dimmed. Clue one.

Turn around now though? Impractical. I already had the borrowed book in hand with minutes to spare. They were going to accept my return whether they wanted to or not.

But when I burst through those glass doors, it was clear… they did not want.

I heard the drums pulsing, the chants echoing. An elderly woman and young man with chalk white faces hidden under jet black robes closed in quickly.

I dropped the book, raced back to the car.

What happened at my local library after hours was none of my business…