1

'Whats it going to be today Lana?' I asked, leaning suggestively towards her desk.

Lana sighed a feeble sigh and made for her drawer and shuffled out a dusty old book. It didn't have a cover, and the edges had been smudged over from obvious years of use. It said Gripes Of Her Heart on the cover.

'What is this artifact, Lana' I said in between bursts of laughs. Lana scowled at me, with a murderous look in her eyes. Why she puts up with me is a mystery I never want to solve.

I snatched the book from her, and flip through it, a lot of the pages sticking together. I had a lot of work to do with this book. It better not disappoint me. I didn't think it would though, as Lana rarely does.

'Where did this one come from, My dear old librarian.' I teased.

Lana rolled her eyes and pushed her self up, her full frame bearing over me. She hated when I called her old, which was a new habit I'd picked a few months ago after I spotted a few strands of gray in her hair, when I was playing with it, and I hated whenever she made me feel small. Yeah I was 5'3, but I shouldn't be reminded by my best friend at every turn.

'We had a new member register last week, and he donated this book alone to the library. Says it's an original edition, published in 1930 by some ostracized relation of his. A Nathan Gene, though I got nothing on the guy from the Google search I did. I doubt if it ever got any traction. A little disclaimer for you though. I haven't read it, so no guarantees.'

I got kicked out if her office after mock dozing on her desk.

'Good riddance Quinn' she yelled as I slammed the door on my way out. I heard her chuckle and I couldn't but join in either.

'Quinn get the fuck away from that door or I'll call security.'

I blushed at her words, and I was sure that was her aim with that statement. Security was Graham, and Graham was my crush. I know it's silly having crushes at 28, but I couldn't help myself. According to Lana, it was in fact necessary to help me overcome my troubles.

'You're crazy, you know that right.' I said, packing my stuff into my tote bag, and storming out the library, hoping to get a glimpse of Graham's frame, and praying he doesn't see me, as I didn't want my legs turning into jelly.

Thankfully none of those happened, and I successfully made it to our flat, a few streets away.

I felt grateful for my earlier decision to made the house up before I left, and I grabbed a few snacks on my way home to munch.

My room was fine, nothing too crazy, but still pleasing to look at, I didn't have the energy to decorate. Not since Ethan.

I fished out my glasses from my bag and dumped the rest of the content onto my worn couch, and I found my bed, and settled into my reading position at the left edge.

I had zero expectations for the book, as I usually did. But today's was different, as Lana hadn't promised anything in particular.

As I expected, It had the boring, yet captivating vibe that was reminiscent of a Wuthering Heights. I read on, as it wasn't a habit of mine to drop books without finishing them, give the story the closure you feel you deserve, I always told my self.

Bbbrrrrrrrnnnnnngggg

My phone rang off, probably my 8 o'clock alarm. Had it gotten late already? I asked my self. I'd lost track of time, as I usually did while reading.

Well, it's time for me to start preparing for Lana's arrival. I threw the book on the bed carelessly, and had something catch my eyes.

Like a cat, I sprung unto the bed to keep said page intact.

It said Page 539, but the book ended at page 530. It definitely wasn't a page that was printed in 1930. It had modern paper quality, different fonts, message, and unique narration

The page read

In a world of chaos, a beacon so bright,

Quinn, my dear, you fill my days with light.

Your laughter, a melody, sweet and serene,

Your smile, a sunrise, warm and keen.

Oh, Quinn, my love, you've captured my heart,

A symphony of emotions, a work of art.

Twenty-eight years of grace, of strength, and of zest,

You're the woman I adore, the woman I'm blessed.

Through laughter and tears, through joy and through strife,

My love for you, Quinn, will forever thrive.

In your presence, I find my peace,

A love so true, it will never cease.

Your one true Love, Forever and always.

Why was there a poem here that was addressed to a Quinn. Who was this Quinn. Who owned this book. Why did it come to me. Is Lana playing a prank. Should I dismiss the whole thing. Should I pursue the letter. It most certainly was odd to see something like this in a library book, especially from Lana's Library.

My thoughts were cut short by Lana grumbling her arrival, and I hastily hid the poem in a book sitting loose on my bookshelf to avoid some questions. I know she would be on edge by this time, and getting confrontational wasn't on my bucket list for tonight

'QUINN!' Lana called for me as though she was my mom. I rolled my eyes and slid out of the room gently, feigning sleep, dragging my feet, and grumbling.

'What is it Lana.' I'm tired, I say as I brush my hands through my hair, and made a mental note to go have it made tomorrow. Black had become too bland. Maybe red highlights would do me some good.

'Graham asked after you today as we walked home. I think he's starting to notice you.' She said with a tired, triumphant tone in her voice.

I flushed at her words, and all traces of sleep had all disappeared, my full focus now on Lana's words.

She took too much pleasure in torturing me with bits of information, and I did enjoy the game.

Mystery poet, Random Quinn, Old books. All that didn't matter. I'll get back to that I'm due course. All that did was this man, Graham. Oh I felt 16 again, all giddied up about a man whom I'll probably never have.

Life is Good