โWell?โ
Mrs Elm had her arms folded.ย ๎ขough she looked identical to the Mrs Elm Nora had always known, her manner was de๏ฌnitely a little more brusque. It was Mrs Elm but also somehowย notย Mrs Elm. It was quite confusing.
โWell what?โ Nora said, still gasping, still relieved she could no longer feel the intensity of all her regrets simultaneously.
โWhich regret stands out? Which decision would you like to undo? Which life would you like to try on?โ
She said that, precisely.ย Try on. As if this was a clothes shop and Nora could choose a life as easily as a T-shirt. It felt like a cruel game.
โ๎ขat was agony. I felt like I was about to be strangled. What is the point of this?โ
As Nora looked up, she noticed the lights for the ๏ฌrst time. Just naked bulbs hanging down from wires attached to the ceiling, which seemed like a normal kind of light-grey ceiling. Except it was a ceiling that reached no walls. Like the ๏ฌoor here, it went on for ever.
โ๎ขe point is there is a strong possibility that your old life is over. You wanted to die and maybe you will. And you will need somewhere to go to. Somewhere to land. Another life. So, you need to think hard.ย ๎ขis library is called the Midnight Library, because every new life on o๏ฌer here begins now. And now is midnight. It begins now. All these futures.ย ๎ขatโs what is here.
๎ขatโs what your books represent. Every other immediate present and ongoing future you could have had.โ
โSo there are no pasts in there?โ
โNo. Just the consequence of them. But those books are also written. And I know them all. But they are not for you to read.โ
โAnd when does each life end?โ
โIt could be seconds. Or hours. Or it could be days. Months. More. If you have found a life you truly want to live, then you get to live it until you die of old age. If you really want to live a life hard enough, you donโt have to worry. You will stay there as if you have always been there. Because in one universe youย haveย always been there.ย ๎ขe book will never be returned, so to speak. It becomes less of a loan and more of a gi๎.ย ๎ขe moment you decide you want that life, really want it, then everything that exists in your head now, including this Midnight Library, will eventually be a memory so vague and intangible it will hardly be there at all.โ
One of the lights ๏ฌickered overhead.
โ๎ขe only danger,โ continued Mrs Elm, more ominously, โis when youโre here.ย Between lives. If you lose the will to carry on, it will a๏ฌect your root life โ your original life. And that could lead to the destruction of this place. Youโd be gone for ever. Youโd be dead. And so would your access to all this.โ
โ๎ขatโs what I want. I want to be dead. I would be dead because I want to be.ย ๎ขatโs why I took the overdose. I want to die.โ
โWell, maybe. Or maybe not. A๎er all, youโre still here.โ
Nora tried to get her head around this. โSo, how do I return to the library?
If Iโm stuck in a life even worse than the one Iโve just le๎?โ
โIt can be subtle, but as soon as disappointment is felt in full, youโll come back here. Sometimes the feeling creeps up, other times it comes all at once. If it never arrives, youโll stay put, and you will be happy there, by de๏ฌnition. It couldnโt be simpler. So: pick something you would have done di๏ฌerently, and I will ๏ฌnd you the book.ย ๎ขat is to say, the life.โ
Nora stared down atย ๎ปe Book of Regretsย lying closed on the yellow-brown ๏ฌoor tiles.
She remembered chatting late at night with Dan about his dream of owning a quaint little pub in the country. His enthusiasm had been infectious, and it had almost become her dream too. โI wish I hadnโt le๎ย Dan. And that I was still in a relationship with him. I regret us not staying together and working towards that dream. Is there a life where we are still together?โ
โOf course,โ said Mrs Elm.
๎ขe books in the library began to move again, as though the shelves were conveyor belts.ย ๎ขis time, though, instead of going as slow as a wedding march they moved faster and faster and faster, until they couldnโt really be seen as individual books at all.ย ๎ขey just whirred by in streams of green.
๎ขen, just as suddenly, they stopped.
Mrs Elm crouched down and took a book from the lowest shelf to her le๎.
๎ขe book was one of the darker shades of green. She handed it to Nora. It was a lot lighter thanย ๎ปe Book of Regrets, even though it was a similar size. Again, there was no title on the spine but a small one embossed on the front, precisely the same shade as the rest of the book.
It said:ย My Life.
โBut itโs not my life . . .โ
โOh Nora, they are all your lives.โ โWhat do I do now?โ
โYou open the book and turn to the ๏ฌrst page.โ Nora did so.
โO-kay,โ said Mrs Elm, with careful precision. โNow, read the ๏ฌrst line.โ Nora stared down and read.
She walked out of the pub into the cool night air . . .
And Nora had just enough time to think to herself, โPub?โ A๎er that, it was happening.ย ๎ขe text began to swirl and soon became indecipherable, in fast motion, as she felt herself weaken. She never knowingly let go of the book, but there was a moment where she was no longer a person reading it, and a consequent moment where there was no book โ or library โ at all.
