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My Critique Process
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Nate listened to the conversation at hand until he was interrupted by the buzzing of a phone in his pocket, its beeping to announce that he’d gotten a text loud enough for all the library to hear. He never was one to remember to mute it in these sorts of places.

As he pulled it out and checked the screen, (it was an older model, of course; nothing flashy or cool) his heart skipped a beat. Typical that he’d forget what he was supposed to be doing right then and there instead of being in the library. Why wasn’t he better at keeping track of things?

“Ah, geez.” He whimpered, standing up in his chair. “I’m sorry guys, I’ve got to go.”

He slung his backpack up over his shoulder, hurrying out of the library before he had time to realise that he was supposed to restack all the books he’d taken down.

((Nate Turner continued elsewhere))
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Mad Dewey Dash · Beale Library