The Invisible Library

Between the school library and the car park, there was a door that only appeared on rainy Thursdays. Zara had first noticed it six weeks ago and had been waiting impatiently ever since. Finally, rain came on a Thursday. The door was old and wooden, with a handle shaped like an open book. She turned it. Inside, shelves rose endlessly upward — higher than she could see. Every book ever written, thought about, or dreamed of was housed there. At...