When they let us back into the building two days later, it felt like visiting the library of Pompeii. our world, frozen in a single unthinkable moment
We all did it Silently, and instinctively, we recapped the borrowed pens, recycled the scrap paper and reshelved the stray novels abandoned by our fleeing patrons
We dusted off tables We checked the bookdrops We scanned the public spaces cross-referenced our gut reactions with a checklist of trauma responses
We took note of the missing books by the doors, where the blood was - absence, often the most visible evidence of tragedy We took deep breaths We pushed in chairs
We ******* loose ends on our plans for next month We sent emails to tell folks their classes were cancelled for the week We gathered listened and talked We comforted one another
We went on doing all the small, important, invisible work we do - through our grief, through our fear, through our trauma - for the people
I wrote this piece in the aftermath of a shooting at my place of work.