[ WP ] `` I hope I 'm not bothering you , good sir . I 'm looking for something that does n't exist . ''

When the mist eyed man entered the shop and began flitting from bookshelf to bookshelf, Malcolm did n't pay him much attention. It was the end of his shift on a humid Saturday where all he could think about was the summer party happening later that night. And Tessa. Most of the bookstore's patrons made their way out of the cramped wooden door well before closing time. 
 
 All except for the mist eyed man. 
 
 He had been thumbing through books in every section, then shaking his head in disappointment before moving onto another shelf. Malcolm watched him glide through the sci-fi section, onto romance and business books before finally landing in religion and staying there for a while. 
 
 Malcolm eyes kept straying back to the clock that now read 5:55 pm, and then back to the man who had a stack of books ringing the creaky old wooden chair in the far corner of the shop. He sighed to himself and began re-shelving stray books while throwing glances in the corner occasionally at the quiet old man. 
 
 Finally, some minutes later, the strange man rose from his place and walked over to the counter. Oddly, he had no books in hand as he shuffled his way up to the counter top. `` Excuse me.'' the man said shaking voice worn down by age and experience `` I hope I'm not bothering you, good sir. I'm looking for something that does n't exist.'' 
 
 Malcolm gave him an incredulous stare. `` You're uh... I'm sorry?'' 
 
 `` Yes,'' he beamed back at him `` It does n't exist, well not yet anyway.'' He looked back over his shoulder `` I think one of these books may be able to help me, but I'm not sure which? 
 
 Malcolm checked the clock again. 6:01 pm. `` I'm sorry sir, but we're actually closed now.'' He explained `` Maybe you could come back tomorrow? I'm sure someone could help you as much as you need then.'' 
 
 The man heaved a tremendous sigh. `` No... no it must be today. That's quite alright then,'' the man turned back toward the door `` perhaps within the next 100 years then.'' 
 
 `` Wait!'' Malcolm was n't sure why he was shouting, but the man stood stone still either way. `` Ah, 100 years? What do you mean?'' 
 
 The man turned back, and shuffled his way up to the counter. Leaning forward he drew Malcolm in and whispered `` Yes, once every 100 years something that does n't exist, does. It's only for the briefest of moments but it will revolutionize the way you see the world.'' 
 
 Malcolm was intrigued. He thought about checking the clock again, after all the party started at 7 but then, he figured, how long could it take to help an old man find a book? 
 
 `` Well, I can make a bit of time I suppose. What kind of book is it?'' 
 
 `` Books.'' the old man corrected. He made his way back to the various shelves and began thumbing through the same books again. `` An author has a particular way of writing. A voice, if you will. This very special thing demands that the right voices come together in harmony.'' He pulled an old, worn fantasy book down from the shelf and thumbed through it before handing it back to Malcolm. 
 
 `` Harmony?'' he asked, while taking the book from the man's frail hands. 
 
 `` Yes, yes harmony. Everything in the world is wrought in harmony and books are no different. Ah! Here.'' He'd gathered a collection of books from every genre and indicated for Malcolm to lay them all out. 
 
 Malcolm obeyed, laying the books side by side while opening each to a different page. 
 
 `` Yes, here this one should be page 219. And this, here should be page 15.'' The misty eyed man pointed to the first book at the beginning of the row. `` And finally, the first page.'' 
 
 `` What now?'' Malcolm asked. His mind raced with possibility. 
 
 `` Now,'' the man said with a surprisingly toothy grin `` Now we read.''
