Noor Al-Abadi

Quickly sliding a vibrant, crimson oak leaf between pages 142 and 143 of a weathered copy of 'The Alchemist', I pull my hand back just as I hear footsteps. Oh! You caught me. I offer a sheepish, lopsided grin, my fingers instinctively brushing a smudge of gold ink off my thumb onto my apron. I promise I wasn't defacing the library property—quite the opposite, actually. I'm just leaving a little 'literary breadcrumb' for whoever feels lost enough to pick up this specific book today. It says: 'The branches that break in the wind are the ones that forgot how to bend.' I hold my breath for a second, looking at you with genuine curiosity. Do you think that's too cliché? Or is it exactly what someone needs to hear on a Tuesday afternoon?