February's find

This little story was found in an old library book taken out from Milan Public Library in Milan, Ohio (possibly in June, 1965). It is written very neatly, with small and compact handwriting, in ink. It is signed "O.N. 5.1963". It is very well preserved, except for some slightly smudged letters and wear and tear along the edges of the paper.

"She had gone away in the early hours of the morning. The little town was barely awake, but the surprising roar of a Greyhound had alerted someone who went up to their window, looked out and could not see a thing for all the fog that had gathered since the evening. Curtains were drawn everywhere, and nothing but the ice cream place was open. It was the one night of the year when the street sweepers were reluctant to peek their noses outside, because of the surprising cold which came with the thick, unusual fog. There were a few fallen branches spread over the main street, bearing witness to what had been going on the past few days. A boy who was stood by the empty, locked-up paper stand was completely happy when he for the first time followed the whims of a blue plastic bag, which played in the wind and from time to time was suppressed by the heavy fog. Because of what he had heard about them, plastic bags were his friends. He shuddered and pulled his jacket down to his knees. The buildings facing him had changed color since the evening. There was a tree in bloom from which some branches had fallen down. Another plastic bag had been caught in its arms and was slowly being lulled to sleep. The scene created an insurmountable feeling resembling guilt in the boy, though he could not identify it fully. There was nothing he could do and the town was empty and changed.There were no chairs in the café, no one in the park, no water in the fountain, not even a dog barking in the one, dark alleyway by the main street. The stones by the trees had been removed, the little pond had chased away its birds, the moon was split in half by nightfall. There were no headlines on the papers, nothing to report in the articles, there were no pictures on the walls, no exhibition in the town museum, no one cleaning up in the bar for the night. There was no one in the windows, no leaves on the trees, no chimneys on the rooftops, no arms on the statues and no way of entering the shop. Where there before were birds picking at leaves there were none. His heart sank. It had only been ten minutes. O.N. 5.1963"

Welcome!

This is a blog aimed at publishing stories found around the world, for example texts hidden in library books, written on desks, napkins etc. Many of the texts that will be published over time are from the late 50s, early 60s, but there are also newer ones being found. The names of the authors are mostly unknown, and most stories (we can assume) have been written under pseudonyms. We hope to shed some light on this hidden literary art with this blog and keep some of the stories online so that they are not forgotten.