Page 222 - The Midnight Library

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And in the magazine rack there was the brand-new National Geographic

with the picture of the black hole on the cover.
ere was a picture on the wall. A Miró print from a museum in
Barcelona.
‘Have me and Ash been to Barcelona together, Plato?’ She imagined them

both, hand-in-hand, wandering the streets of the Gothic Quarter toget her,
popping into a bar for tapas and Rioja.
On the wall opposite the bookshelves there was a mirror. A broad mirror
with an ornate white frame. She no longer got surprised by the variations in

appearance between lives. She had been ever y shape and size and had ever y
haircut. In this life, she looked perfectly pleasant. She would have liked to be
friends with this person. It wasn’t an Olympian or a rock star or a Cirque du
Soleil acrobat she was looking at, but it was someone who seemed to be

having a good life, as far as you could tell these things. A grown-up who had
a vague idea of who she was and what she was doing in life. Short hair, but
not dramatically so, skin looking healthier than in her root life, either
through diet, a lack of red wine, exercise, or the cleansers and moisturisers

she’d seen in the bathroom, which were all more expensive than anything
she owned in her root life.
‘Well,’ she said to Plato. ‘ is is a nice life, yeah?’
Plato seemed to agree.