Incidents by Jianqing Zheng

I walked into a university library and bounced up to the second floor to look for Harriet Jacobs' Incidents. A librarian at the desk was dozing. Her head tilted to one side. When I breezed by, she napjerked and closed her eyes to doze again. Everywhere smelled musty. There was no Incidents on the shelf. I brushed downstairs to the reference room where three librarians were chatting. None of them behind the service desk. They threw me a faraway look and continued their chat like morning birds chirping in a tree. I felt like an uninvited guest so I turned and marched quickly into the October sunshine.

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