Erin Lorandos
Bio
If you looked me up in the library catalog, I'd be filed under mom, librarian, and female writer—and conveniently, I have got the tattoo to match!
Stories (20)
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A Quandary in Quarantine
Chapter Seven Luce and I had gotten back to Elsewhere pretty late the night before, so I had done nothing but fall into my bed and immediately go to sleep when we finally got home. In the morning, when my alarm went off, I got ready quickly, opting for a quick messy bun in my hair, my tinted moisturizer and a rich colored lip gloss. Then, I headed to the library a bit early. I hoped that if I could poke around a bit before everyone else got there, it would shake that feeling I’d had the last time - that I was going to get caught doing something I should not be doing.
By Erin Lorandosabout a month ago in Fiction
A Quandary in Quarantine
Chapter Six Watching the clock slowly tick closer to 4:00 pm made me feel like I was back in elementary school, eagerly awaiting the last bell of the day to ring. At 3:55, I gathered my things and powered down my computer. I stole a glance at Irene’s closed office door. An urge to go in overtook me, and I gave in, opening the door with my spare key. As I pushed open the door, a sudden wave of guilt passed over me. Don’t be silly, I chided myself. There was absolutely no reason I shouldn’t be in Irene’s office. Glancing over the surfaces of her desk and filing cabinet, I saw that little had been disturbed since the previous day. Again, that made sense - who else would have been in here? The police clearly had not deemed any of the papers strewn across her desk to be of interest in the case. But, as I looked them over, I saw that the genealogical research I had seen the other day was all still there. I glanced over my shoulder quickly before making the split second decision to take the papers. I needed to be able to cross reference them with the letter I had found, and I needed to do that in the privacy of my home, lest someone see what I was doing and think I was trying to cover something up. I quickly grabbed an unused manilla folder from the box on the top of Irene’s filling cabinet and hurriedly gathered the papers, jamming them in my tote bag.
By Erin Lorandosabout a month ago in Fiction
A Quandary in Quarantine
Chapter Four The rest of that day floated by us all in a blur of news site-checking, trying to reconcile conflicting information, and outright denial (or, worse than that - silence) from much of the leadership both on a local level as well as the country as a whole.
By Erin Lorandosabout a month ago in Fiction
A Quandary in Quarantine
Chapter Three I had had my one-on-one originally scheduled with Maggie for right after lunch, but after a brief phone call we canceled our meeting in favor of a short all-staff at 11 o’clock. She was worried about the town’s potential response as much as I was, and wanted to talk to everyone all at once.
By Erin Lorandosabout a month ago in Fiction
A Quandary in Quarantine
Chapter Two Most Monday mornings, I usually followed more or less the same routine. I would arrive at the library around 7:45 or 8:00 am, do a quick sweep of the reference department - which also housed our Adult non-fiction collection - for any obviously out-of-place materials, grab a book truck on my way past circulation, empty the book drop - which is usually full to overflowing after the library is closed all day on Sundays. Next, I take that cart back to circulation so the desk staff can work on getting those items checked in, then I head back to my desk in the reference area.
By Erin Lorandosabout a month ago in Fiction
A Quandary in Quarantine
Chapter One The sun was high and bright in the brilliant sapphire blue sky. A few perfectly puffy cotton-ball clouds floated lazily by. Looking up towards the sky out my front window, I could almost believe it was the middle of summer, rather than the beginning of March. But, it was definitely not summer. We were still deep inside a brutal Midwestern winter. The snow had been piled by the plows thigh-deep along the roads and an ever-present layer of ice hung heavily from the branches of the sturdy trees that lined the street.
By Erin Lorandosabout a month ago in Fiction
