A Literary Journey
    The name is Max. Though I imagine you don't care about the tall, unassuming 29-year-old walking down East 42nd Street.
    I come from Newton, a thriving city of 3,000,481. Sorry, just got a text: the Johnson's had twins. Newton is a thriving city of 3,000,483.
    I am a writer by trade. You might have read some of my books, but probably not. My latest project is going...not well.
    "Look at this place," I said to my life-long friends, Trent and Duke. "Pollution, grime, crime, and noise. Lots and lots of endless noise. Everyone running around not really going anywhere. And everyone is so busy with their smartphones they don't even notice the person next to them."
    "Did you say something?" Duke said. "Ashley just sent me this funny cat video."
*sigh*
    "Got writer's block again?" Trent giving me "the look."
    "No! What? Why do you ask?"
    "You always get testy when you are struggling. You get distant and reflective and start longing for days long since passed."
    "You become a downer," said Duke. "Seriously, I don't even know why we hang out with you."
    Our friendship started about the second grade when Duke and Trent were being bullied. I came to their rescue one day and we've been friends since. Soon afterwards I retired from the "being a hero" gig; it got me nothing but trouble. Anytime I try to help someone, I get smacked in the face (and in the case of the school bully that was literal...nearly broke my nose). I ended up with detention for fighting and the bully, Troy, got a warning. I believe it was his fifth one that day, and it was only ten in the morning.
    Trent was always the smart one. He won the spelling bee three years in a row. He won the national science fair; got straight "A"s; and went to Harvard. He graduated with a degree in computer science and went on to help program a social media app.
    Duke, on the other hand, was street smart. He was fast; knew the best hiding places; and could spot a con or trick a mile away. But he wasn't smart enough for an academic scholarship. He did play sports, but he wasn't good enough for a scholarship. He ended up as a trash collector.
    I kept waiting for the day that jealousy would destroy the friendship, but they had their ways. Trent always made Duke feel valued. "Thank goodness you guys came," he would say. "My neighbors put something really rotten out; I was about to pass out from the smell." Trent understood that he needed Duke as much as Duke needed him. Duke got his chances to rib Trent though. Smart as he was, Trent lost at games of chance and could be conned; it was one of the few times Duke felt smart.
    "Well, this is my stop for the day." I stopped before the stone lion statues that guarded the public library. Why these lions decided to protect a library was beyond me.
    "Research and inspiration?" said Trent.
    "Here's hoping," I said with a fake cheering motion.
    "I hate research," said Duke.
    "Necessary evil," I said.
    "Like my union," said Duke.
    "Or debugging code," said Trent. "Which reminds me," he and Duke continued towards the bus stop, "just yesterday, I had to debug a 50,000 line program...and it didn't have comments. Why is it so hard for coders to leave notes?" Duke looked back at me. "Help me," he mouthed. I shrugged and gave a little wave.
###
    My footfalls echoed among the nearly empty halls. In an age of streaming and e-books, the library was all but abandoned.
    Obviously the stone lions were not doing their job.
    The librarians didn't help either. They continually tried to promote the fact you could use the library's website to rent books, music, and videos, as well as research from home. The librarians also had a tendency to promote the self-check counters and the ability to renew your library card online. Where they being helpful or putting themselves out of business? The jury's still out.
    Most of the people here were older or those who preferred print to the cybernetic world. Other patrons were those who, for whatever reason, did not have online access.
    I came to the library for three reasons. First, I blame Trent. He is always talking about how easy it is to create a virus or to hack into a system. He loves to show Duke and me, in excruciating detail, how vulnerable our computer network is. I have enough problems without worrying about someone hacking into my computer just because I checked out Ancient Societies.
    The second reason I blame on Duke: coming here makes me feel like I've done something. This is one reason I'm jealous of Duke. At the end of the day, he can say, "I kept the east neighborhood clean for another week." But what about me? My work is all in some cybernetic realm. Does what I do exist or is it just ones and zeroes? Also, I'm a writer. It reminds me of the old saying: If an author writes but no one reads it, did they really write?
    Third, as a writer, I spend most of my time on a computer or in front of a notepad. If I did everything online that I could, I'd never leave my apartment. I can rent movies and books online. I can order food and clothing over the Internet. I can pay bills and check my bank account. I can talk to friends or promote my books through social media. So now and then it is nice to have an excuse to be offline.
###
    I was about three hours into a book about medieval culture when I yawned. My eyes were getting heavy and I soon fell asleep.
    Hey! Don't judge me! I doubt you never fell asleep while studying.

The Castle in the Dark

    Moor Manor...wow, what a place. The owner obviously never heard of a maid or discovered a little thing called electricity. The manor looked to be falling apart. The manor, like the owner, has been around for a long time. Rumor is that the owner is immortal, but I think he's just old (very old). The manor is lit by either torches or fire from the fireplace, and the occasional flash of lightning from the storm that never seems to dissipate. Cobwebs adorn the place though you could search for hours and never find a spider; it is as if the spiders' made the webs, decided that the place was too spooky even for them, and hightailed it outta there.
    "Minion!!" a voice rang through the hallways.
    "Coming Master," said a short man as he came through the door panting. "And the name is Min-yon."
    "I don't care," said the master of the manor. "Now go to the shelf and get me a jar of eye of newt."
    Min-yon limped and shuffled over to the bookcase. Min-yon did not have a hump or a limp but did have to pretend because he was, after all, only a minion. "Sorry Master," Min-yon said with a lisp, "but we are all out of eye of newt. I can order more from the Internet, and with their drone technology, it will be here by tomorrow."
    The master shot Min-yon a look that could peel wallpaper. The master rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Minion, I am trying to rid the world of science and technology, do you honestly think I want to use it!!"
    "...Um...no?"
    "Go to the newt farm and get the eyeballs the right way."
    Min-yon had to hold back the feeling of vomit as he thought about the "right" way to get eyes out of a newt. "Why must we destroy technology, Master?"
    "Because, slave, science is destroying magic. With this spell, I will bring the world back to its proper time; a time when magic ruled. There will be no more smog; no more noise..."
    "No more telemarketers," Min-yon said.
    The master seethed for a moment then calmly said, "There will be peace and harmony. New ideas will flow and mankind will finally evolve to its full potential." He went silent for a moment. "Now, go, and fetch me some eye of newt. And make sure it's fresh."
    "How could it not be?" Min-yon mumbled suddenly gaining a New Jersey accent.
    "What was that?"
    "Nothing, my lord and master," Min-yon said regaining his "minion" accent. The master returned to his cauldron (being careful not to let his impressively long, white beard dip into the liquid) and began chanting as Min-yon continued to mumble, "I never should have answered that henchman ad I saw on the Internet. 'Be a minion,' Mom would say. 'You'll travel and meet interesting people.' Bah." Min-yon then slammed the door behind him.

What Just Happened
    I snorted awake. I stretched and yawned. Boy, what a good nap. I then noticed the people staring at me. I chuckled softly, smiled, and closed the book. I stood and began inching away from the library patrons. Once I was far enough away, I turned and scurried to the shelf to put the book back.
    The book hung inches from its spot as I realized something: there were people in the library; more than the 10 to 20 that loiter around. Much more.
    "Is there a sale?" I said aloud.
    The extra people was strange but nothing to worry about; maybe it was a lunch hour or something. *grumble* Speaking of food... I thought as my stomach continued to protest; I was getting hungry. Luckily there was a diner not far from here.
    The library door clanged behind me. "Was the library door always made of iron?" I shook my head and took a deep breath. The air smelled fresh and seemed to rejuvenate me, a nice change from the smog. "Can't remember the last time the library was that full."
    I descended the stairs. A groaning, kind of crumbling noise, made me stop. It sounded kind of like stone moving. I turned but only the stone lions stood near me. I continued down the stairs and heard the noise again. I turned once more but there were only statues. I shrugged and took a couple more steps and heard the sound again, but this time it was joined by a low growling noise. I started taking the stairs two at a time. Once I reached the bottom, I turned again, but there was still nothing.
    "Excuse me, young Sir," a voice said. I twisted in a surprised half jump-half turn that would put figure skaters to shame. In front of me now stood a knight on horseback. "Could you point me in the direction of Wilber's Court?"
"Two blocks that way, turn right, go three blocks, and take a left."
    "Thank ye kindly Sir." The horse snorted a "thank you" too. The horse and rider began their journey down the street.
"Must be a renaissance fair." I put my hands on my hips. "And they didn't invite us. But in all fairness, Duke was kicked out after winning the pie eating contest three years in a row." I checked around me. "Why am I talking to myself?"

Continued in The Wizard of New Town (Beginnings, #1) available to buy at Barnes & Noble.