Everything seemed too quiet. Unnaturally so. Was it always this silent in here? Sure, there was the occasional sound of a page turning or a computer running, but it wasn't a sound one could focus on listening to.
It even smelled strange in here. Old, musty, but with a hint of the lake breeze that wafted in through the open window. One could smell the water nearby, and hear the laughter and chatter of the beachgoers. But it was faint; unable to break up the silence that still permeated the room.
The elderly woman at the desk was reading. A newcomer might assume that she had work to do, but regular visitors knew her better. She seemed not to notice anything around her, so focused was she on her book. And yet, when someone came to her desk to ask for help, she appeared not to mind the interruption. She whispered her response to him--quietly, of course, so as not to disturb the eternal silence of the place. She looked happy that someone else shared her love of reading.
The books that covered the shelves held every genre imaginable. Romance, science fiction, biographies, children's books, fantasy, and everything else--any type of book a reader wanted, they would be able to find it here.
Brian's parents brought him to the desk to talk to the elderly woman there. Even with this place's constant silence, it seemed like a place he would enjoy.