Yeah, I’ve been to the rainy library. They don’t put plastic on any of the goods. So many waterlogged stacks of books… I remember standing in the massive lobby and looking up over floor after floor of sagging shelves, up to the clouds bumping against the ceiling. The rain was weirdly warm.
But of course the rainy library has books that normal libraries could never find, much less stock, as well as other and more experimental ways of transmitting knowledge.
The online instructions guided me to side halls which forked off crazily. I climbed up some stairs and then down others and up again. I rode horizontal elevators, and crossed catwalks over book vaults. It went on for hours. The windows looked out on a city I didn’t recognize, then a desert, then a landscape like the moon, then the black fur of some planet-sized creature, breathing.
Soaked, exhausted, and yeah, a little afraid, I arrived at the last room and pushed open the stone door.
And saw myself standing by a picture window, back turned.
I joined myself at the window.
We looked out at a very clean darkness. It wasn’t dark like space or under blankets — it was like reality ended just outside the window.
Then the darkness began to soften.
It didn’t become light so much as it sort of gave way to a whiteness that was not really white. I can’t put it into words…. It was anti-black. And it made the dark spiral open in waves, like an anti-black rose.
And inside the rose? At its center?
A gigantic blue eye.
Anyway, I’m never going back.