The fairy tale:

She came in from the cold, stamping snow off her feet at the threshold, then settling in before the library's grand stone hearth. She took a moment before the fire, wondering what mysteries (or would it be whimsies?) she would find within the pages that day. When her toes were warm and a glass of cocoa—bottomless and always just the right temperature — was in hand, in an anticipation clear and keen, she wandered off into the stacks.

That same day he came in from the desert of the city's midsummer blaze. He welcomed the oasis of the library's cool marble floors and savored its incongruous indoor breeze, impossible yet present, scented by the sweet scent of bookdust. Before his customary crispy pilsner could arrive, he set out on his trek amongst the tomes. If he were to discover something writ long ago that spoke to truths present and deep, how delightful. But if the only things on the day's pages were lovely nothings, how delightful, too.

As the fates would have it, the two strangers, each sated in life and yet incomplete, would discover something grander than they could have ever imagined as they reached for the same book in the same moment…

The truth:

Tinder. Late fall. 2018. Swiping right that day were two total hotties on the wrong (or right?) side of thirty with fire in their loins and caffeine in their veins. In fact, their first conversation was about coffee. Their second was about their favorite moments of food in books. His love of Murakami characters making snacks even as their lives became surreal dreamscapes. Her love of magic cookery as expressions of love in a now-canceled author’s fantasy opus. (Unfortunate that that author turned out to be a piece of shit, but life is messy sometimes. It’s not all magical libraries.)

Anyway: long after the coffee buzz deserted them, they still felt absolutely jolted. They decided they should meet soon. They did. And they’ve been riding that “There’s someone out there who gets me” high ever since.