I sat in a bean bag chair in the Young Adult section, a braille edition of Christopher Paolini's "Eragon" upon my lap. Someone came up the steps, stomping like a herd of elephants, and flung himself down into a chair in the Romance section. I paused in my reading, my finger hovering over where I presumed the next dent or indent was on the page. Whoever it was, he was breathing pretty hard. I dog-eared the page I was on and rose, some what unsteadily, to my feet. I had memorized the library by heart. It was easy for me to move about within its walls. I moved cautiously towards the sound of the stranger. When I felt I was close enough, I made myself heard.
"Are you okay?"
The person gasped, but said nothing. I could tell now that she was female. I wondered why she had not spoken.
"It's alright," I told her, smiling, "I'm blind. That doesn't mean I bite,"
The padded wooden chair creaked as she stood.
"I'm Bryon," I held my hand out in her direction, feeling rather stupid for doing so.
To my surprise, her hand slid into mine. With a voice as soft and as suddle as the coo of a dove, she introduced herself, "Sarah,"
My mother's voice startled our meeting, "Bryon! It's time to go home, honey!"
I let go of Sarah's hand and ducked around her, calling over my shoulder, "It was nice meeting you!"
I put one foot on the top step of the stair. Or, at least, I tried to. I lost my balance completely. My arms cartwheeled as I attempted to stop my descent. A hand was pressed to my chest, another on my shoulder. It was Sarah. I could smell her perfume. It was the same aroma of lavender and lilac that she had left on my palm when we shook hands.
"Thanks," I told her, taking a few steps backwards.
"Bryon? Are you coming?"
From the echoes, I guessed Mom was at the foot of the stairs.
I nodded, "Yeah, sorry,"