It’s a quiet, peaceful day. You stroll complacently through the aisles of books, contemplating the neat rows of colored cloth and leather. A bit of sunshine glimmers through the distant stacks. A little tune is wandering through your thoughts. Suddenly, a shiver runs down your spine. You stop. Something is wrong; you sense danger. Slowly you turn and peer down the rows of books, half afraid of what you will find. You cautiously step forward, and there it is, lurking in the dark, slowly creeping down a row of books. It slithers from one volume to the next, maliciously victimizing innocent and helpless books. The air is filled with a vaguely unpleasant odor. Books become untouchable — they are slimy, they are furry, they are distinctly icky. Who knows, it may spread to the carpet, the walls, the curtains, the chairs, even your office; it may take over the whole library! It’s the attack of the awful mold!
Killing Mold
