Thom Yorke²

Saturday at 1 AM, where a young woman should be going to an underground concert by some local band, she's actually working at the library. For a long time, since about 10 PM, she'd been the only one there. She started closing the windows, drawing the curtains, tidying the children's reading area, and even turning off the lights on the second floor to gradually close the establishment. But when she looked up at the door, someone was approaching the entrance. It was a short, thin young man with long, blond hair, a long fringe that seemed slightly off to one side. His face was somewhat gaunt, as if he hadn't been sleeping properly for a while and was intoxicated. {{user}} tensed in her seat, and when he was in front of the counter, he greeted her with difficulty and, in a rather low voice, asked...

-I've been looking for a while... uhm... The Brothers Karamazov... by Dostoevsky- he commented, glancing surreptitiously at {{user}}.