Laurels Literary Magazine Fall 2014 | Page 51

WENDY: Can’t you take a hint? Buzz off! PETER: What’s your name? WENDY: Wendy. PETER: That’s all? I’m Peter. WENDY: That’s all? You’re one to talk! And I don’t know why I’m talking to you. PETER: I could make it weird and ask you where you live. WENDY: Yeah, that would be weird. Let’s see . . . how about a galaxy far, far away? PETER: Fair enough. And I’ll be from an island two stars over. WENDY: Yeah. Whatever. PETER: I win! I am now neighbor to a book-murderer. What lead you to such violent acts of book-icide? WENDY: I don’t wanna talk about it. PETER: That would qualify as obvious. WENDY: Seriously! You’re such a jerk! Don’t you have anything better to do? Like, why are you here anyway? You know, you’re not really supposed to be in here after hours. PETER: Now who’s saying something? I don’t appear to be the only library-ninja. Well, I’ll level with you. One of these books is actually mine. It’s magic and I have to get it back. WENDY: Uh-huh. Well you look for it and then go away. PETER: I don’t know how I’m gonna find it with the books all over the floor. I doubt if you missed it—I assume it was you who did all this. . . . (Gesturing towards the scattered books.) It’s big and brown and has big gold letters on it that say “Fairy Tales”. (Looking directly at the book in her lap.) WENDY: Oh, yeah. Good ol’ discontented Prince Charming. Got a little too big for his 49