I head for the library. I tell myself I’m going for work, but I often get distracted there. The stacks contain multitudes, but I inevitably find myself gravitating toward one subject. I look from afar, overwhelmed by shame. While others browse Facebook, I meander through the aisles searching for my own four-letter word, gathering the courage to open a forbidden book or, perhaps one day, check one out. But that would require making eye contact with the student behind the desk as she scans the barcode… I could never.
Just the thought of it sends goosebumps across my lower body. My toes start to curl and beads of sweat roll, quite gradually, down my legs and practically reach my...nevermind.
Images dance in my head. The possibilities that lie meticulously organized before me. I succumb. Or maybe I overcome. I reach for a book and open it slowly.