Library Ticket.
Hugo dashed toward the library like a man on a mission—or more accurately, a man running from his academic doom.
His hair was a mess, his shirt was half-tucked, and his frantic expression could have scared a flock of pigeons into the next century.
But just as he reached the entrance, a bony hand shot out and blocked his path.
"Ticket," the librarian said in a voice so monotone it could put an insomniac to sleep.
Hugo blinked at the elderly man, who looked like he'd been around since the invention of books.
He had thick glasses that magnified his droopy eyes, and his movements were so slow it was like he was moving underwater.
"Ticket? What ticket?" Hugo asked, exasperated.
"The library ticket," the librarian said, not an ounce of urgency in his tone. He reached under the counter in slow motion, as though the concept of speed offended him. "New policy. Must take a ticket to enter. Must return it when leaving."