The neon clock on the wall chimed three times, echoing through the empty library.
By Bruno Moreira

The neon clock on the wall chimed three times, echoing through the empty library. Somewhere between the rows of ancient encyclopedias, a mechanical hummingbird whirred to life. It lifted off gracefully, trailing a faint scent of vanilla and ozone into the quiet room. Outside, rain tapped softly against the tall glass windows, blurring the city lights into abstract streaks of amber and violet.

