Flash.

I race through the bookstore, lightning sending up a flare behind me. I had to hurry. I whipped through the shelves, looking up and down and searching for the correct one. I hated the number system they used, but I couldn't change it now. I was running out of time.

Flash.

"I'm hurrying," I said, gritting my teeth and trying to pick up my pace a bit. The people formerly hanging out in the bookstore were in an uproar, screaming and knocking over books. They screamed that the lightning was going to strike them.

Idiots. They had a lightning rod on top of this house—they did know that, right?

Another flash.

It lit up the sky outside, scorching a piece of concrete. It was raining heavily outside now. He was getting impatient. I yelled back, "I'm hurrying!"

Come on…you can do it…where is it? I was sweeping through the bookshelves, pulling them all out, leaving a path of books in my wake.

Flash.

I groaned. He was always impatient. Always. Without fail. I tried to speed up, but I was already as fast as I could go. Almost…I felt like I was going to get there soon.

Flash.

"Will you be quiet!" I screamed to him, and I could feel his thunder rumble. I turned back to the shelves, tired of this already. We were running out of time. Where was it? Why couldn't I find it?

Oh…

There it was.

I swooped down and picked it up, admiring its shiny cover and the words inked onto it. This was what I wanted.

Flash.

"Got it!" I said joyfully, bursting out of the shop, holding the book up. He rumbled a few more times with joy, and picked me up.

Flash, flash, as we left, contemplating:

What should the wind steal next?