So, as I mentioned on Monday(?)–I think it was Monday and that I actually mentioned it–there was no Thursday Threads last week. The person who hosts the challenge was under the weather. As a result, I had no prompt upon which to pen 250 words to share today. Have no fear! I will share words. Pretty sure y’all remember my gritching about the chapters not cooperating in the timeline and as a result, chapter five became chapter one and stuff was shuffled. I’ve decided to share the first part of chapter one now. This snippet is longer–400+ words.

**** Chapter 1
The scarred linoleum floor did nothing to mute the hollow echoes of Aisling Goodnight’s footsteps. The hallway stretching before her shimmered between light and shadow as the unreliable florescent lights flickered overhead.

Why had she come down here? On her first day, no less. She paused to consider the recent upheavals in her life. The Rochester Library had contacted her in Seattle based on her bio listed on a professional site. After a Zoom interview, they’d offered her twice her salary and a title. In just over a week, she’d packed up what little she owned, flown across country and now here she was, her first official day as the Curator of the Special Collections.

She’d reported to work that morning, filled out all the paperwork, received her employee badge and the codes to all the electronic locks. The head librarian showed her to her office and left her to settle in. Everything had been normal. Until now.

She’d toured the various rooms where special collections were kept. She’d visited the vault where the priceless items resided. She’d reorganized the viewing room where patrons could request a book and look at it. She’d retired to her office to make plans for tomorrow and review her day while waiting for it to end.

Then she’d heard the water. Not a drip. Not a trickle. Not exactly a roar. Special Collections was housed on the lowest level of the library. And yes, there was a river right outside, but that wasn’t the sound either. This was a shushing, a whisper of flowing water. She checked the bathrooms. Nothing. She checked the janitor’s supply room. Again, nothing.

A door she hadn’t noticed before drew her. The sound increased. There was no lock on the door. Odd. The handle offered no resistance when she pushed it down. The door swung open to reveal a set of stairs. Unable to find a light switch, she used her cell phone to descend. At the bottom of the short flight, another door blocked her way.

A little voice in her head said, “Turn back. We don’t belong here.” The inexorable lure of the unknown was stronger. She turned the door handle. Or tried. Nothing happened. She twisted it the other way. Again, nothing. It didn’t move. She pushed. The door was stuck. Then she pulled and almost fell up the stairs she’d descended just moments before as the door opened. ***

Realize, there is a prologue but this is the beginning of Ariel’s and Aisling’s story. For those of you who like to play along and use prompts, here’s one for you to use: *We don’t belong here.* Have fun with it if you decided to use it. Readers, I’d really like to know what you thin. Does this scene pull you in? Are you interested in what’s happening? Are you curious about Aisling and what happens next? Honestly, this book is bedevling me. I can’t decided if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Therefore, I’d appreciate the feedback. Please and thank you. Now it’s time for more coffee and then back to staring at the monitor in hopes of figuring out, “What next?” Happy Hump Day, y’all!