Daily Disasters {Loki + Kittyoemily}

I'd asked dad if I could leave the grocery an hour early, and he said yes; I had a few coins in my pocket and I headed straight for the Seam and the Hob. I needed a new book, or three. I know I get strange looks coming down here - I don't fit in, don't belong, but, the only books I can get in town are boring, practical guides to things like cooking and blacksmithing and treatises on the so called greatness of Panem. I want books that tell stories, real stories. About long ago and far away from here, and the only place to find things like that is the Hob. Not that there are a lot of readers in the Seam, those books sit there moldering for years until someone buys one to even out a crooked legged table or something. I think I am the only one who buys them to read.

The Hob used to scare me to death. It's so rickety and big and smelly, the people are rough and dirty, nothing like home, but they do have all kinds of old stuff, including books. So, I forced myself to get past the fear. Now, it's just a smelly old building with mostly poor people buying and selling as best they can to survive, and I don't shiver and shake just going into the place. I head right for the stand which has the most old books and I start browsing. I know I stand out, in my navy blue dress and black shiny shoes with clean white socks. But here is a wonderful old book, almost falling to pieces in my hands and stinking of mildew, but I look at the first page and I'm captivated already. It's called 'Wuthering Heights'. I handle the book gently, and I ask the seller how much; he knows I have coins and not barter, and I am sure he charges me more than the thing is really worth, but I hand over a couple of coins and consider it a good bargain.

I am just about to leave when I trip. There's something on the floor and my clumsy foot catches right on it. I pitch forward and protect the book, first, so I land on my elbows and knees; my face burns hot with embarrassment. The little rich girl who can't even walk, I know that story will be on everyone's lips the moment I leave. I struggle to get up, noting that at least the book hasn't been torn apart or wrecked any further by my clumsy mishap. My dress is now stained at the knees, however. I hope mama will have some idea how to clean it, since I don't. I look around, and everyone is looking, now, but no one says anything, or offers me a hand as I get up. I can feel blood trickle down my left elbow. A drop of blood patters to the floor.