Matt Haig

The Midnight Library


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rel="nofollow" href="#ub6a74fab-2845-5696-95fe-d846aa2d817e">Walking in Circles

       A Moment of Extreme Crisis in the Middle of Nowhere

       The Frustration of Not Finding a Library When You Really Need One

       Island

       Permafrost

       One Night in Longyearbyen

       Expectation

       Life and Death and the Quantum Wave Function

       If Something Is Happening to Me, I Want to Be There

       God and Other Librarians

       Fame

       Milky Way

       Wild and Free

       Ryan Bailey

       A Silver Tray of Honey Cakes

       The Podcast of Revelations

       ‘Howl’

       Love and Pain

       Equidistance

       Someone Else’s Dream

       A Gentle Life

       Why Want Another Universe If This One Has Dogs?

       Dinner with Dylan

       Last Chance Saloon

       Buena Vista Vineyard

       The Many Lives of Nora Seed

       Lost in the Library

       A Pearl in the Shell

       The Game

       The Perfect Life

       A Spiritual Quest for a Deeper Connection with the Universe

       Hammersmith

       Tricycle

       No Longer Here

       An Incident With the Police

       A New Way of Seeing

       The Flowers Have Water

       Nowhere to Land

       Don’t You Dare Give Up, Nora Seed!

       Awakening

       The Other Side of Despair

       A Thing I Have Learned

       Living Versus Understanding

       The Volcano

       How It Ends

       A Conversation About Rain

      Nineteen years before she decided to die, Nora Seed sat in the warmth of the small library at Hazeldene School in the town of Bedford. She stared at a chessboard on a low table.

      ‘Nora dear, it’s natural to worry about your future,’ said the librarian, Mrs Elm, her eyes glimmering like sunshine on frost.

      Mrs Elm made her first move. A knight hopping over the neat row of white pawns. ‘Of course, you’re going to be worried about the exams. But you could be anything you want to be, Nora. Think of all that possibility. It’s exciting.’

      ‘Yes. I suppose it is.’

      ‘A whole life in front of you.’

      ‘A whole life.’

      ‘You could do anything, live anywhere. Somewhere a bit less cold and wet.’

      Nora pushed a pawn forward two spaces.

      It was hard not to compare Mrs Elm to her mother, who treated Nora like a mistake in need of correction. For instance, when she was a baby her mother had been so worried Nora’s left ear stuck out more than her right that she’d used sticky tape to address the situation, then disguised it beneath a woollen bonnet.

      ‘I hate the cold and wet,’ added Mrs Elm, for emphasis.

      Mrs Elm had short grey hair and a kind and mildly crinkled oval face sitting pale above her turtle-green polo neck. She was quite old. But she was also the person most on Nora’s wavelength in the entire school, and even on days when it wasn’t raining she would spend her afternoon break in the small library.

      ‘Coldness and wetness don’t always go together,’ Nora told her. ‘Antarctica is the driest continent on Earth. Technically, it’s a desert.’

      ‘Well, that sounds up your street.’

      ‘I don’t think it’s far enough away.’

      ‘Well,