Practical Magic

One of the less pleasant spaces in ye olde London towne is the locker room in the basement of the British Library. Now, I use the phrase "locker room" and your mind may immediately conjure spirited hijinks and monkeyshines such as that to which Old Ken was (slightly mortified) witness many long years ago as a member of the SHS football team (Let's Go, Green!). Those, needless to say, are stories for another time. But, the kinship between the dank, fetid smells of a highschool locker room and the cramped, claustrophobia-inducing basement in which the authorities of the BL would have its users deposit their coats and bags is surprisingly close. Thus, stepping out of the driving rain yesterday morning, I braced myself as I crossed the foyer of the library, preparing to encounter the walk-in humidifier that is the basement.



Yet, to my surprise and delight, the rain had in fact yielded a minor miracle of interior decoration. For, many readers had simply placed left their open umbrellas along the top surface of the lockers themselves.



As you can see, the low-lying stormclouds that normally strafe the locker-tops suddenly dispersed, as my eyes swam in the warm glow of yellow lockers, purple polka-dots, and green clovers ... I mean, green lockers.



And although it is perhaps unrelated, on my way home, I found some unrefutable evidence of the apotheosis of a witch right there in the city street. From what I can tell, she must have been whisked up into the air so quickly that she left her broom behind.