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Nat searched the bookstore, waiting, hoping even. Why did he hope? Had They ever given him reason to hope? Ambiguous answers and enigmatic questions were all that They gave him, along with the chilling doubt that he had ever seen Them at all. More than once had Nat feared that he was insane.
Of course Gwen constantly assured him that he wasn't alone. She had a power to, as she always told him, even though she had never told him what that power was. Sitting at a table, one of many that had been set up in the center of the maze of bookshelves, Nat could feel his thoughts digressing.
He continued to read over the few new arrivals, each destined to join the meager novels that had made their nests on the oaken shelves.Each of those imposing, unpainted bookcases had cost a bundle the decades ago when The Griffin's Perch had first been built.
Even as Nat scanned the new arrivals for damage, he continued to search the bookstore for Them. He knew he wouldn't see Them. They never came during the day , as if the sunlight could purge Them of all Their enigmatic tendencies.