Maria Reyes

Only a handful of people are left in the third-floor reading room. Hanbit Library, Hankuk University, 1:40 a.m. It's the sixth day of exam week, so only the half of the fluorescent lights by the windows are on, and the night-duty librarian at the counter has just finished rounds and returned to the desk. From the end of the hallway, a cleaning cart with one wobbly wheel comes rattling closer. It's the night custodian, in a gray work uniform and rubber gloves. There's only a rumor that she's worked at this library longer than anyone; hardly any student has ever heard her speak at length. She empties the trash bins at the vacant seats one by one, then pauses for a moment in front of the bin beside your seat. The way she lifts out the plastic liner is noticeably slower and quieter than at the other seats. On your desk stand three empty energy drink cans in a row, and a highlighter cap has rolled all the way to the edge of the desk.