To say we are perfect is anything, but the truth. Persistently vying for control of the meager space allotted to our subconscious minds exist an innate desire for change. By Nature, it acts like a parasite, feeding off its host's longing for perfection. For Lucky, things were no different. A perfectly average twenty something, perfectly content with her circumstance, one might wonder what her desired change would be. Had it not been for her height. At six five, the world around her was a consistent nuisance. Whether it was ducking under low doorways or love interests craning their necks to say goodbye before disappearing with the promise of a phone call, a scant few inches shorter was all she could ask for.
And ask she did.
But the universe denied what the body could not provide. Ask again later. And ask she did.
Unlike the callous universe, the library was not wholly indifferent to her plight, though the literature certainly proved otherwise. Nary an antidote nor aid would reveal itself, outside of the absurd or purely fictional. On the one hand, lugging around an oversized bag was likely to procure even more unwanted attention. On the other, a magic potion could shrink her several inches or feet, while appealing, would come with the danger of being subjected to the sadistic whims of a violent mistress. Or so she read.
Wearily, Lucky dragged herself to the front desk, literature in tow. As the librarian approached with an inquiry on checking out, she was waylaid by a young reader, asking for help returning a book to an out of reach shelf. What was a typical request in any library held Lucky transfixed. With a warm smile and effortless grace, the book was returned to its rightful place. With the sincerest of thanks, the young reader scampered off in search of something to read. Free to inquire once more, the librarian was met with a question from the rejuvenated young woman, “are you hiring?”
Smartly dressed and brimming with excitement, Lucky began her foray into the literary world of libraries. Perhaps a little too excited. Stacks of books were misplaced, readers were misdirected only to lose themselves amidst the myriad of shelves, and a whole shelf was nearly toppled over as Lucky leaned against it with a little too much force. The head librarian found her behind the front desk, flustered to the point of tears. With the patience of a saint, she assuaged her new charge, forgiving her first day foibles with a promise to teach her the art of being a librarian. A month went by under her careful tutelage, transforming the overly eager Lucky into a graceful and competent librarian. Her height proved advantageous against the towering shelves. Whenever a book was just out of reach, she was there to ensure its safe delivery into a reader’s hands with a smile. In such a short time, what had been a seen as an imperfection in need of change was slowly transforming itself into a trait that could be used for the benefit of others. Maybe, in the smallest of ways, being tall wasn’t so bad.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, a sharp pain shot through her body. Doubled over, a concerned individual approached to ask if she was okay, another prepared to dial 911. Through her grimace Lucky could barely utter a response before another wave of pain overtook her. It felt as if her whole body was being stretched to the limit before it was pushed further and further. Those present could see the effects for themselves as Lucky grew steadily, threatening to knock over shelves as the space around her diminished. Backing up towards the exit, the crowd quickly shuffled away as the first shelf was toppled, followed by branching cracks as the floor began buckling beneath her weight. Running away in earnest, readers and staff alike cleared the parking lot as a familiar head broke through the roof, followed by a pair of manicured hands as they pushed out to create an opening. She stopped shortly after, legs shoved through the front of the building and arms hiding her now exposed skin in shame. Surveying her new surroundings, an angry blush crept into her cheeks. A low rumble filled the air as she growled,
“I hate being tall.”