Arallithe

I heaved my heavy roller suitcase up the stairs to my apartment. A musty scent wafted out to me as I unlocked the door. A small pile of mail lay on the carpet just inside the door. My neighbor was picking up my mail every day, but it looked like she hadn’t been in yet today. She would be surprised to see me when she came today, since I wasn’t due back until tomorrow. I was really tired, but it was only 10:00 am and way too early to go to bed. And I had lots to do before I slept. So I pulled my suitcase into my bedroom and hefted it onto the bed. I took all my really dirty and rather smelly clothes out and went to start the washer. I had been up in Northern Montana evaluating all the books someone had found in an abandoned library in a small, now, ghost town that nobody knew existed. We had camped in one of the rooms of the library while we worked. Luckily there was still a well for water near the town restaurant, but not enough to really bathe or wash clothes. I had been there two months before we got all the books catalogued, evaluated and made some simple repairs. My job was all of those tasks, plus evaluating the words and the writing to see if it was cohesive, understandable and meant something. Occasionally one was written in a foreign language and I had to figure what language it was and translate it into English. Old English was also one of my skills. There are so many spellings for words and abbreviations that were invented at the time anything was written. It was a little like ‘cracking codes’. I had specialized in Old English and could read and understand the nuances of the language. I took a long, long hot shower, washing my hair three times. Oh heaven! I put the washed clothes into the dryer and went out to shop for some food. I was walking down the street on this fine day, when a large expensive car pulled up beside me. The back door opened and a man dressed in beautiful dark blue business suit which looked really expensive. His tie was a lovely pale blue that accented his snow white shirt and dark suit. A gem sparkled on his tie. “Hello. Are you Ms. Meadows, Ms. Gina Meadows?” he asked. “Yes, I am. How do you know my name?” I asked. “We were sent to pick you up.” He looked at me with some amusement as he answered.