"Silence, please!" The irritated librarian roared at the two men.

Mark shot an apologetic look at the librarian while he listened to what Charles was dictating out of a thick book.

The 24-hour library of the city was the perfect place to look for information on the symbol or doodle.

Charles read, "The spider is an ancient symbol of mystery, power and growth. We take our first lesson from the ancient symbol of the spider by contemplating its web. Just as the spider weaves a web, so too must we weave our own lives. The spider symbol meaning here serves as a reminder that our choices construct our lives."

Keeping quiet for a few moments, contemplating the words, he murmured to himself, "But what does it mean here?!"

"May I have a look at the diary, Sir? Maybe, there's a clue there," Mark suggested.

Charles agreed. He gave Mark the diary, and continued to look for more information himself.

As Mark turned the pages, he found nothing much interesting. He wasn't able to find anything suspicious diary. For all he knew, it might be a diary of an eight years old.

"Did you find anything?" Charles asked, all of a sudden.

"Nothing. There's only some childish scribblings all over the pages. Seems that it belonged to a child." Mark informed.

"Have you found anything else, Sir?" He asked. Charles shook his head, defeated.

The librarian, who was strolling around, stopped abruptly to give a stern look at them. His eyes scanned what they were reading, afraid they might cause harm to his books. Confirmed, that there was no danger to the books, he resumed his stroll.

"Let me have a look at the diary," Charles said. He probed the diary, to find something.. anything that could lead him a way. He had almost given up, when he saw a tiny scribble in the last page of the diary.

"This diary belongs to:
Harry Richard Jones."

It was a handwriting of a child, maybe of about six or seven years of age. The diary was of the year 2007. The child must be now around sixteen or seventeen.

Charles knew he had heard this name somewhere. It had certainly rung a bell. And he knew, if only he could remember, he would have something as a clue.

"Harry Richard Jones," Charles repeated to himself.

"Who, Sir?!" Mark asked.

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(26th July 2017)

©AmyParkins