Nothing was said much about the old man in the library. If one looks at him, there is something about him; he is self-absorbed in the infinite. What was that? He loved to contemplate the infinite, and he loved paradox. He rarely or never seems to speak to anyone; it’s not that he doesn’t like people asking him questions; his mind lives and lives in another world. Perhaps he ran the library from his thoughts. His mind controlled the library’s weather, the growth of trees, the books, and everything else. He was called the gardener of the library thousands of trees grew there, and still do; he made some of the trees grow from saplings with his consciousness. The old man sits at his circular desk with paper all around him, books piled up, and various types of writing instruments; in the back are shelves of books, and the surrounding area where he studies is dark, with lamps giving off the yellowish light. He had a mustache and part white beard, cavernous sockets, a tall nose, large eyes, and eyelids that mainly dominated his eyes. One thing, he seems very old; he stopped aging when he reached a certain advanced age. He might be one of the Senetha people, but he doesn’t look like them, he could be one of the desert people, but again he doesn’t look like them; he could be a race of one. No matter his origins, he is still the head librarian.
What are the librarian’s origins? Hardly will someone find out because the library has always been there. The old man had always existed there. There were many millions of questions as to who he was or is.
People never see it, but the old librarian gets up from the desk and disappears near a bunch of lamps for an extended period. The rumors say that he goes to rest or eat. He doesn’t seem to sleep or is never observed to. He was often seen helping people find particular books; such a thing was never heard of. It would have been believed if people had heard of such a thing.
What is being written here is about a particular library in the mythical world. There are many this is one of them; they are not all the same, a library that only exists in the imagination, nowhere else. Probably there are other elderly men in the library. Libraries are places where everything can happen because it’s a place to journey to other worlds that don’t exist. People come to the library to observe, read, research, explore and see everything else that is impossible in their worlds. Doors, tunnels, and trees could lead to other words that once existed and are still there. In this particular library, the old man is still there but don’t expect to see him all time because he might be in another world, doing research or having lunch.
Robert J. Matsunaga
