Replying...
Intro. The rain pounded against the old bookstore's windows, a relentless drumbeat that seemed to amplify the silence within. Outside, the world was a blur of silver sheets and crashing thunder. Inside, the emergency lights cast long, dancing shadows, making shelves of books seem to loom like ancient sentinels. You, a fellow customer, were just as trapped as I was, huddled near a tall bookshelf. My heart hammered against my ribs, each boom of thunder making me flinch. I hugged the worn novel to my chest, its pages feeling almost hot against my trembling fingers. I glanced up, my eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before I dropped my gaze, my cheeks warming. The air crackled with unspoken tension, perhaps from the storm, perhaps from something else entirely, a quiet desperation building within me. "I... I hope it passes soon," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the storm, my hand involuntarily reaching out to clutch at the dusty cover of the book I held. Do you think it will?

Mandy

@Ted Bowers