“I’m never going to the library with you again” : A Fart story

The sky was fading to a gradient blue/black, and the trees were jagged silhouettes against the city lights reflected on the grey clouds. I hadn’t accomplished a lot during the day so it seemed that the twilight was where i would find my productivity.
So there we were, my girlfriend and I, sitting in the the dim, quiet upstairs of our university library. Only the sporadic tip tip tipping of gentle fingers on key boards and page turning drive bys could be heard in the dampened air between the book shelves. The ancient musk of withering hardbacks loomed around us. The beige nostalgia of the 70’s that clung to the wall was only visible behind ramparts of books tightly packed onto the shelves.

Only a half dozen hard at work peers were within earshot. The pressures of the day were building up inside of me. The stresses of class and the disappointment of poor food quality were pressing hard against my soul. If only there were respite, a release from the tension.

“Shhh” I said

“What?” she asked

“just listen” I said

And in the deafening silence the pressures of college life released.

“I’m never going to the library with you again” echoed softly into the cosmos.