The Library at the Edge of the Universe

 There was, of course, a library at the edge of the universe. It was built to fit the space. That space, for the moment, was infinite. But it was the kind of infinite that was smaller than other kinds of infinite — both space and libraries are funny that way.

    This library had an agenda. Most do. But this one's was more specific than most. It wanted to hold all the books in the universe, whether they liked it or not. And it got the books by poking and prodding the universe in all kinds of different ways, until it gave up the literary ghost. Well, all the literary ghosts.

    So. There sat a library at the edge of space that housed all the books in the universe. It mostly sat, anyway. Sometimes it stood. Occasionally it stretched a bit. And on two occasions, yawns were recorded as galaxies doing a funny little seismic shift.

    It might yawn again. In an eon or two.

    Because it is waiting.

    It's been waiting for an infinite amount of time. One of the smaller infinites. But still. Probably for readers, I'd say.

    Or maybe there is no library at the edge of space. Maybe it doesn't have all the books in the universe. And maybe it hasn't yawned twice. 

    But it seems like something the universe would do. Or should do. 

    Either way, I'm banking on it.

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