Betty
The first time I laid my eyes on Adam Lewandowski was on a hot afternoon in June.
It felt like I was in a kingdom, and the library was my castle—after all, it was my favourite place to be in. I moved slowly between shelves scanning the books neatly arranged with their spines facing outward. I didn’t have to touch them, at least not yet.
Finally I gave into the temptation, my manicured nails trailed along the spine, the touch reminding me so much of Walt Disney’s beauty and the beast but unlike her I wasn’t reading for comfort, I’d been searching for the perfect literature to ignite me, maybe strip away the relentless writers block, and flood me with so much ideas for my next publication.
I was about to finally pluck one of the books when I heard a deep confident voice behind me.
