A woman goes to a lending library to return a book. “As per our records, this book has been with you for eighteen years. You will need to pay the overdue charges,” the librarian says. The woman agrees. “Why did you take eighteen years to finish the book?” the librarian asks. The woman says, “Well, I planned to read the book right away. But then I met this man. We talked all night. Two months later, we were married. I was going to read the book after the honeymoon but then the first baby came. When the baby was big enough, I decided to finish college. I wanted to read the book on my summer break but then the second baby came. My husband and I both had to work two jobs each to keep us afloat. Years passed. A few months ago, the girls left the house in search of jobs. Then my husband said he was leaving me. I was picking up the pieces of my life when I stumbled upon the book. I finished it in one sitting. And here I am.” The librarian says, “And how do you feel now?” She says, “At first, I was broken. But the book has helped me understand and heal. It’s funny. I would have finished it that first weekend, eighteen years ago, if I hadn’t met my husband. But the book wouldn’t have spoken to me then. I needed to lose everything for the book’s message to reach me.” Later that night, the librarian, who has also lost someone, opens his notebook and writes: “The story of your life is always getting written a few paces ahead of you…” An image from the past comes to him. His lover is sleeping beside him; she is lovely but his mind is on his deadlines. He thinks: Why did I take my eyes off of her? Is love not as important to me as my work? He continues writing: “The story of your life is always getting written a few paces ahead of you, while you are busy doing other things.”

Fine Art Photography Print, Red Library