Concentrate, Jenny. Concentrate. When taking one glance around this dusty old Library, one would be expected to find students hard at work studying. They should be scribbling away at assignments for whatever class. They should be buried deep behind stacks of opened books, eyes strained from reading so much. But if one were to find an empty, secluded part of the Library, one could do whatever they pleased. And so there sat Jennifer Dorny, concentrating—trying to find her center of balance. She was in a rather odd position. She leaned back in her chair, foot propped up on the table—which probably wasn’t a good idea. Pince was constantly walking around putting away stray books, and if she were to walk near the section of the Library that Jenny was currently stationed she was certain to receive some kind of detention. Pince was always touchy about ”respecting the Library” which apparently included the furniture too. Jenny tried to balance her quill on her nose, while trying to balance herself out on the chair. She stuck her arms out, because apparently when one did that it would help balance them if they leaned to one direction. Jenny looked cross-eyed at her nose, trying not to sneeze—the feathers of her quill were tickling her nose. It was an odd sort of thing—Jenny sitting there, not studying for once. It really was unusual. Normally she was shut up in her dorm, scribbling away at an assignment until she finally finished it. There was never a break for Jenny. If she wasn’t doing homework, she was studying. She had good marks and they were well-deserved. She worked harder then most people. So the fact that she was in the Library, doing nothing, was certainly surprising. That’s why Jenny sat there, trying to concentrate.

The only problem with this was that Jenny’s concentration wasn’t up to par. She could only concentrate on one thing for so long before she grew tired of it—when she just got a lack of interest. And when things were unimportant to her, she usually forgot about them. It was a bad habit, she knew—and a particularly hard one to break. So once she finally achieved that one second of balance, that one second of perfection, she gave up. After all, one could only ask for one second of perfection. She put her quill back on its rightful place at the table in front of her, and sat in her chair in a more lady-like manner. Then she sighed, but only a little. It was a little more then obvious that Jenny was doing everything possible to avoid doing actual work—which to some point defeated the actual purpose of being in a Library at the time. It didn’t matter though. She wasn’t in the least bothered by that fact. Putting her hands behind her head and biting her lower lip slightly, she looked down at the part of the table that she had claimed as her own—her territory. There were a couple of books—all which were unopened and still had that thin layer of dust covered on them. This Library was always so dusty, Jenny thought.