Current location:	Kassel, Germany
Current mood:	creative
Entry tags:	3rd person, ic post, tm topic

84: What is Your Favorite Time of Day? Why? (336 words)
The Sacrifice of Reason

Outside the air is a hazy grey, halfway between light and dark. The halfway color calls to young Jacob Grimm through the window, but the look his hard-nosed boss is giving reminds him that he needs to finish first.

Jacob holds the thick folio under his arm as he works to get the papers in order. He’s working hurriedly now: the already hushed conversation of the stately intellectuals who frequent the library is fading as they filter off to supper. The faster he works now, the longer his grace period will be. There’s just this last folio to be organized and put away.

The tall rows of books seem to loom higher with every moment the light fades, transforming into towers of knowledge, winding fortresses where the unwary wanderer could easily get lost forever. But Jacob knows these halls, he’s walked them a hundred times fetching books for the old men and putting them away again, earning his share to survive. He is master of the maze.

The empty spot is found, and the folio quickly—but carefully—restored to its residency. Jacob waits just a moment to make sure nothing is amiss, then hurries down the row, back toward the front of the library.

The old man nods at him from behind the desk to signal that that is indeed all for now. Jacob sits down at the small table by his window. It is ajar tonight, letting in a slight, cool breeze.

Jacob takes the paper from his pocket. It is thin, dirty, and oil-stained, but it is empty, and that’s enough.

Even now he can feel the old man watching him to make sure he doesn’t break the quill or spill the ink, but he holds too much respect for them to do so. He lights a candle, watches the flame flicker in the cool draught from the window. Then, with a practiced ceremony, he dips quill in ink, and begins to write.

Reason, I sacrifice you to the evening breeze. - Aime Cesaire