Personal Narrative: Pride-Chaneyville Branch Library

In the queer hills of Northwestern Colorado, amongst a landscape frozen still by winter’s icy tendrils, two sharp, yellow beams of light split through the darkness, the sole remnant of color in an otherwise white and desolate stretch of US Highway piercing through the southernmost edge of Ponderosa County. To their left, a small slab of sandstone bulged out amidst a sea of frozen pines, welcoming them to the city of Bleek Hill. Although generally not the road trip type, Will Castor could not help but feel a bit ecstatic at their arrival in the town, which, despite an apparently long and vibrant history stretching back to the mid-1860s, had left itself little a trace amongst the greater archives of the internet and the Pride-Chaneyville Branch Library. He felt like one of the grand explorers of old, a modern Leif Erikson, adventuring through a strange new land with no signs of civilization. Unfortunately, these illusions were quickly dissolved as the visages

It was far larger than it had been made in the photograph Will had seen, and it seemed as though they had significantly expanded both the Eastern and Western halls. He finally understood why his guests had been so adamant about them staying at the house rather than a hotel; if he lived in a place so big, he thought, he would always be looking for ways to fill up space. The house’s distinct coloration had been almost entirely masked by a blanket of frost, and a small golden banner was draped from two ends of the low-hanging bargeboard, reading the following message: “Welcome to the debutante proceedings of Ms. Adara Barker!” Although the two children found it rather pretentious, Jeff felt a surge of relief at its presence, as, without it, he most assuredly would have missed the house along their first trip down the nigh pitch-black road leading toward the