The Library Will Be Closing in 15 Minutes

And all this time I've been writing in my notebook, not in the digital space my notes were intended for.  I'd meant to transcribe pages of ideas about heart sizes and dreams that cure allergies but instead I will save those thoughts and wink at the graying woman who goes about collecting tickets and loose books, glaring at me over her spectacles as if she is unaware of any stereotypes.  She says it again, softly.  I am the only person in here besides her.  She seems nervous.  She knows I am pushing her boundaries.  She takes a long look at me, her work apparently done.  Drops her head and sighs.  I am still typing, quickly.  She needs me to go and I like to be needed.