The Library
I arrived at the spaceship and proceeded with cautious haste, surprised at the apparent lack of any obstacles or defensive measures whatsoever, such as a fence. How is there not a line? I decided to delay my entry so that I could surreptitiously scout the perimeter for any threats or traps, adopting the appearance of a mere passerby because I was being watched. I was painfully aware of how ill-fitting my presence was and yet no one seemed to notice, which must’ve been a broad conspiratorial effort to lull me into complacency. Nevertheless, I had no choice but to continue after having come this far. When I first became aware of its existence, it did not surprise me, in fact it made perfect sense. After all, having seen the abhorrent course of civilization, why shouldn’t humanity have devised a way out? Certainly technology had come far enough and had even turned to matters of far less importance, matters of no importance at all. Maybe it was all simpler than I expected, all so ordinary, maybe one did not need any credentials at all to enter. I descended through the concrete staircase burrowed into the earth (shielded from the propulsive blast I suppose) and entered through the door by a mere pull of the handle. Alas, upon entering my hopes for a ticket off this doom-stricken planet were promptly dashed by a bespectacled gentleman behind the counter who informed me that the vessel was in fact rooted permanently to the earth. “Fear not, sir!” he exclaimed, “for the ticket you seek is here after all” he said while opening one of the endless number of books. At this I was confused, as my eyes fell upon mere words.
yelling about buildings 