If it’s summer, the windows here are shaded by the maples outside. Perhaps you can see the robins nesting on one of the upper branches, the blue sky through the leaves. A breeze blows through; this library has no fear of the weather.

If it is winter, there is a fire in the woodstove, with tea water heating in a cast iron kettle. The couch seats are aged crushed velvet, and guests are encouraged to curl up, feet and all. It is possible to watch the snow fall for hours and forget about all stories but the ones you make up yourself, of Siberian tigers, perhaps, or the sound of long awaited sleigh bells.

The contents of this room are two stories previously unavailable in complete form online. One, She Walked Out The Door, was published in print. The other, Water Child, was published by a now defunct venue. Both are password protected. Any blog follower can contact me for the password.

Jen Mason-Black