In the dark winter night of January 27th at the Children’s Section of the Berkvalle Public Library, coated with a sheen of white snow stood Thomas Gladin. From the middle school section to the Picture books section.   The shelves had to be done in a certain order otherwise you got tired and looked at the clock and if you looked at the clock your time was pretty much extended by two hours. Gladin was shelving a book called “Maggie Mysteries” while a snot nosed blonde child ran behind him screeching followed by a tired looking lady with a tan and a scratchy voice.  Ma-Mb-Mc-McAlister there it goes.
	There was a coal jet black care with notches on the side being pushed by Emily Frutz who Gladin liked the look of but never really talked to that much and they were both professionals and he would just fail anyway so what was the point?  The library was a circular building with four sections, the children’s one being the smallest.  It takes approximately 10

Mulroy 3
minutes to stack a cart from the other side of the library and push it over to the children’s sections.  Gladis turned his head halfway to the clock before snapping it back into place and
staring dutifully at his work.  Op-Or-Orheim.  When would time start to move again? If it was 7:45 by the time he finished his section and every section took a good thirty minutes than he had roughly four more to go.  Gladin started to make a sound with his feet when you rub them against the floor but stopped when his boss walked past him.
	Almost done almost done.  Gladin allowed himself to glance at the clock.  It was 7:15, his shift ended at 9. The child’s cry had reached a boiling point and the mother seemed as if she would join him bawling. What to do after this?  Emily Frutz tapped Gladin on the shoulder and signaled wordlessly he was standing in front of the shelf she needed. He nodded neutrally and stepped away while looking at anything that wasn’t her.  It was 7:20 now.  The kid and his mom had long since left and a bald man with a full beard who didn’t appear to have a child with him sat down and was mouthing something wordlessly as he typed on the battered Dell monitor.