The Reader & The Writer

By Sasha McCallum

A simple story about two young women who connect, despite vastly differing personalities and issues with mental illness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sasha McCallum
• Release date: Dec 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370006380

Sasha McCallum

"Talent and success are perpendicular to each other." Sergei Dovlatov

Book preview

The Reader & the Writer

By Sasha McCallum

Copyright © 2017 Sasha McCallum

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Licence Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, it may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Other titles by Sasha McCallum

Sample of The Arrangement

Chapter 1

The library was old. Although many new additions and renovations had been made over the years, there were still parts of it Heidi could go into and feel like she was a child again, getting lost amongst the shelves while her mother worried and searched for her.

When she was here, she considered herself to be officially at work, so it was acceptable to switch her phone and herself off from the outside world. If people complained that they couldn't get hold of her, it was her go-to excuse. I was working, I was trying to concentrate. The people who knew her quickly learned this fact—when it came to a project her self-discipline was exemplary. Of course, deep down she knew it had developed that way because she needed a good reason to cut out the insistent buzz of irritating interruptions. Getting something useful done had come about gradually as a positive side-effect and she still spent much of her time simply reading and learning about things that would not end up contributing to her current body of work. She liked the relaxed attitude with which she could do this, the favourable circumstances that had allowed her to become the person she was; she was lucky.

She had been frequenting the library most afternoons from Wednesday through Sunday for over six months and enjoyed her routine. It was free, easy, but she could still wake up in the morning happy in the knowledge that she'd done something useful the day before, produced something.

This particular day—a Saturday—she'd been concentrating for an hour in relative solitude when a nebulous presence sat down at the table to her right. She continued working, not looking at the person. Noting only, with relief, that, whoever it was, they weren't noisy or intrusive. In fact, they were being so silent that after forty five minutes Heidi began to wonder if the dark blob in her peripheral vision might be a hallucination. She found the possibility intriguing and continued her work.

Today she wasn't doing much writing. She had a few points she needed to research and was reading online about death in absentia, noting things down; occasionally veering off from the primary subject as she did when she found a topic especially new and interesting. Eventually her curiosity got the better of her: she glanced to her right then quickly returned her gaze to her computer but certainly not her attention.

It was a girl, maybe twenty years old—dark hair, pale skin and hauntingly beautiful. Why hauntingly, Heidi wondered. Perhaps just the circumstances; ignoring her silent presence long enough to envision her as a possible mirage. She needed to look at her again, to prove herself wrong; this was no ghost and this very real person was not hauntingly beautiful, nor probably very interesting looking.

Feeling as if she were being glaringly conspicuous, Heidi looked again at the figure to her right. She was real, yes; Heidi's eyes remained on her longer this time. Her long, almost black hair was loose and falling partially over her face, her nose in a book, her concentration unwavering. Her face, what little of it Heidi could see was not at all uninteresting. Her features were soft, cheekbones high, nose perfectly shaped for her face. She was thin, perhaps too thin under her heavy coat and layers of winter clothes and the book she was reading was thick. Heidi could not see her eyes properly, or what book had this creature so enraptured. Heidi had never seen her before; her face was completely unknown, and she would probably never see her again.

She tried to immerse herself back in her work but the girl had invaded her mind, pervaded her senses and she found it difficult to concentrate. Eventually she gave up, packed her things into her bag and left without looking at the girl again.

The following Saturday the same enchanting girl was back though, reading the same enormous volume. Heidi sat turned away from her. Her resolve not to indulge in these strange flights of fancy she took to sometimes was normally well-trained—habitually she moved on from them and didn't look back. They were nothing more than fleeting fantasies, immature and not worth wasting her time or energy on. Once, when she was a still a child, she had allowed herself to be sucked in by feelings like those, but she was not a child anymore, she knew better.

She worked drearily on her article. It was an interesting subject, but she was at that early stage of writing when it had yet to entirely capture her attention, it hadn't become a part of her yet. At four pm she got up to use the restroom and go outside for a brief sojourn into the world of nicotine, an old vice she wasn't even trying to kick. On her way back to her table, which was thankfully still unoccupied, she very nearly physically brushed the girl who had captured her interest a week earlier, but whose presence she had managed to forget this week. The girl looked up from her book—a rare, momentary lapse of concentration on her part, Heidi guessed. She sat back down at an angle where the girl was in view this time, her curiosity overpowering.

For the next three weekends the girl was there every Saturday and Sunday giving Heidi a worrisome chance to become both accustomed to her presence and very interested to know who she was. She was dangerously lovely; Heidi had begun to look forward to seeing her at the weekend. This was wrong, she knew. She shouldn't be allowing it, she should avoid the girl, at least by sitting in a different section of the library. On the other hand, her self-indulgent side told her, what harm could it do? It was a pleasure to see her, to be near her, and it wasn't as if she were interacting with the girl in any way. They had barely acknowledged each other's presence. As if to prove her wrong the universe chose to intervene at that point, while she was sitting, only half concentrating on her screen.

You have the most interesting way of looking both five and a hundred years old. You have to be one of the most expressive people I've ever seen.

She stared, mouth open in surprise. The girl stood over her and looked at Heidi with curiosity and perhaps a hint of derision. Her irises were grey and dark, but still distinguishable from the black rings that circled them. Heidi was too surprised by the comment to respond before she swept away and disappeared out of the study section of the ancient library.

What had just happened? Surely she had imagined it. The girl had spoken to her, and what a strange thing to say. Heidi nodded to herself—it made sense that even when the girl spoke directly it would end up being cryptic. Still, she felt warm, the girl had made contact, however questionable her meaning had been.

The next day Heidi was disappointed that she did not appear. This was the sensation her conservative side had been trying to guard against with the original resolve to avoid the girl. It was conceivable she would not be back now and indeed she didn't appear at all the weekend after, leaving Heidi with an inexplicable sense of loss.

Two weekends later, she resurfaced and this time she had something that made Heidi's skin crawl. She sat a table away and again, oblivious to her surroundings, opened her book. Heidi had a clear view of her right-side profile and could see the outline of a fading bruise high up on her cheekbone, just visible under a layer of foundation. Someone else may not have noticed it but Heidi was well-trained to see things like this, having had to cover her own bruises in the past. She felt a new sense of protectiveness about the strange girl which overrode any previous caution. But there was nothing she could do, nothing she could say without seeming creepy. So she simply went about her quiet day content in the knowledge that at least here and now, she could oversee her relative safety.

For two hours they sat, a mere ten feet from each other, with no one else near them. Heidi tapped at her computer and the girl read, barely making a sound. Eventually Heidi stole one of her casual glances at the girls face and was astonished to see tears streaking her pale cheeks. She made no sound and her expression was unreadable to Heidi who could not see her hooded eyes properly from this angle. Before she could stop herself, she spoke.

You're crying, she said, as if the girl didn't know. "What book is that?" She willed herself to shut up. However deeply involved in the book she had been, the girl now looked up.

I'm not here to chat, she said mechanically, wiping at her face.

Heidi nodded and kept her mouth shut this time. She did not look at the girl again, but wondered what kind of book does that to what kind of person. Was the girl overly sensitive? Overly passionate? Possibly unstable? A half hour after this inconsequential exchange she heard the girl get up, gather her things and leave, and once again Heidi got the feeling she was gone for good.

The next day was Sunday and Heidi sat alone for three hours working on her latest article. She was not happy with it, she had written and rewritten it several times already. It just wasn't coming together in any kind of flowing coherency.

Hi. She looked up to find the girl standing over her, a tentative expression on her lovely face.

Hello, Heidi returned, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest. What was it about this girl that did this to her?

Listen, I... The girl looked lost for a moment before continuing. I might have seemed rude yesterday when you spoke to me. I hope I didn't hurt your feelings.

Heidi watched as she sat directly across from her at the same table, and this new, close up view of her beautiful face almost took Heidi's breath away.

It's okay. It's a library, I shouldn't have been trying to talk, she said.

I've seen you here a lot, you're the expressive one, the girl told her. "I get used to being