library only, horn, chain, bell ~(n)vis.i.(t)able~
|-bell(e) horn's cha(i)n.ge- 250 words
It was a thinner-than-expected volume: leather bound, intricately embossed with few signs of wear.
The shelf was boldly labeled: REFERENCE MATERIALS for LIBRARY USE ONLY.
The book spine was less boldly labeled: Table 1 Use ONLY.
Table 1 supplied unique lighting; a low strung single filament orb which showed no hotspot beneath it, despite the surface proximity. The curator sat not more than twelve feet distant, positioned such that any movement at the table would be noticeable, regardless of immediate counter activity.
This was quite disturbing; near the last straw, in fact. The constant watching was becoming unbearable: sentries, cameras, glass, glass, glass! Fragile beings under glass, trying not to fry in sunshine or batter themselves between difficult to discern boundaries! He tucked the book into his shoulder bag, crossed the curator's counter area and strode across the threshold into the world of big, blue skies.
Tumbling down three stairs, the broad sidewalk caught him. Side to side, he saw densely superimposed amber wood grain tabletop. Fingertips ran along stair edge before he rose cautiously to his feet.
After precariously relocating the door knob, he inhaled, holding that breath until he had crossed back into the curiously clear room. He returned to the reference shelf, withdrew the book and went promptly to Table 1, choosing the chair which faced the curator. Belle Horn lifted one eyebrow and remained nonchalantly engaged.
He opened the cover. Upon the first page was written in ancient script: No need for embarrassment, everyone tries it.