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My 7:30 am alarm buzzes as I snatch up the keys to my ‘Blue Bug’. The roller door moans upwards as I hastily select a cheerful playlist to speed me across town. “Oh, for a quick trip to work.” Today’s delay crossing an endless chain of highway traffic, is mercifully brief. Blue Bug leaps out and seamlessly slots in between a tortoise and hare. “Off to a good start, for once.” Cruising up to the traffic lights I wish the trip could be varied instead of the same boring route until the end of time. Soon, the Turn Right Lane looms. Before I realise, we’re zipping off to the left. “No, No, No!” Too late! A sea of vibrant metal popcorn engulfs us — rushing this way and that — we pour with it, now heading west. Mind racing along with Blue Bug, I frantically strive for damage control whilst resigning myself to the bleak prospect of a late arrival.

West St either flows swiftly or clogs catastrophically. “Please, please, please…” Blue Bug becomes an isolated drop of oil in a kaleidoscope of bubble bath. We slide between dawdling cars and tuck in behind speeders. We ditch straight lines and roads. We duck and dive, weave and merge in and out of side streets when traffic lights even hint at turning golden, or worse yet: RED!

A thought flits through my mind, “Have I mutated into a Rally driver?” Light rain sprinkles the bitumen. An octopus-like roundabout zooms towards us. Today, Blue Bug swerves into the left lane and swims through the noisy swamp with a slight tail slide. Definitely rally driving! Several songs later, work appears ahead. Instead of parking out front in the sun, Blue Bug unerringly turns into a slot up the hill, under a shady tree. “Hmm, smart move.”

Crispy, autumn leaves skitter ahead of me as the doors yawn open automatically. ‘Just another day at the office’… with its usual chilly welcome. Frigid air huffs from the air conditioner into the empty cavern. Tap tap tap, echo my black patent leather shoes. Morning is the best time of day. Devoid of pesky people interrupting, wasting my time.

Half an hour of blissful peace and quiet to tidy the bookshelves! 'Returned' library books nestle on the trolley, patiently waiting to rejoin their library community. Setting Ally Carter’s “All Fall Down” beside its sequel “See How They Run” I hear a low grumble.

Can’t you put me next to someone else for a change? It’s boring sitting here until some kid decides to borrow me. Don’t get me started on ‘Home Stays’! It took you 67 weeks to retrieve me from that last one! I had Hayfever the whole time… lying under his bed with dust-bunnies, dirty socks and Daddy Long Legs spiders!

Stunned into responding, I say, “But that’s your place. You’re number one in the series.”

So? It would be far more enjoyable between “Take the Key and Lock Her Up” and “Heist Society”. I’d still be with my series. Besides, my spine label clearly reads CAR. Don’t you teach students to read any more? Surely, they can find me just one book away. Please!

I can’t believe I’m chatting with a book, but ‘Hey, let’s go with it!’

“You could be right… I wouldn’t like you to ‘accidentally’ fall down behind the others and get ‘lost’ for a term.”

Further along the shelves, I spy a handful of unfortunate books uncomfortably upside down and back to front. Deftly righting them, I detect a soft whisper from “Emma”.

Thank you! Juvenile Year 9 boys continually 'Book-nap' us from the “Classics” section and upturn our precious gilt edged editions. It’s distressing enough coping with postural headaches. However, the humiliation we’re subjected to here between Andy Griffiths’ “Just Crazy” and “Just Disgusting” is unbearable! My siblings “Pride and Prejudice” and “Sense and Sensibility” have far too much class to slum it here!

“Fine, fine. Calm down! Got a description of the annoying culprit?”

Absolutely! An unkempt lanky lad wearing a torn red Rip Curl cap, chewing on gum.

“Got him! Every day he struts in here, hides jigsaw pieces and fights in the beanbag! I’ve always suspected he was my Library Villain! Too little to do and his whole life to do it! He’s a goner!”

I gently place “Emma” and her distraught siblings back in their rightful spot.

Thank you most kindly. Greatly appreciated. May we beg one final favour? Those English Class Sets of “To Kill a Mockingbird” desperately require fumigating. Droves of sweaty adolescents spill sugary drinks over them. My heart aches for those fine books and the despicable treatment they are subjected to…

“Excellent point! I’ll note it in the diary. It’s been a pleasure chatting. Sadly, it’s time for me to dash off to class. See you tomorrow morning, my friend?”

*

Inspired by the Absurdist Awakening challenge.

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