I love this library for many reasons, but one is the beautiful windows with stained glass art filtering sunlight into magical rays.

Today, I browse the aisles happily while the sun beams prism-like patterns on the books. What do I feel like reading today? Historical fiction, mystery, romance? But weirdly I feel lost suddenly. Which aisle am I meandering in? I don’t recognize this one, and I know the library backwards and forth.

But now, I don’t see a beginning behind me nor an end in front. Or would it be the end of the aisle and the beginning in front?

No matter, fortunately I see a glint of light ahead and race toward the narrow window I never noticed before. A stained-glass portrait of a woman of indeterminate age hangs from the window. She has blondish hair and blue-green eyes that seem to stare at me. She reminds me of someone, but who? I am getting freaked out!

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