Kirsty Bosley: The Shining - my first foray into the world of grown-up literature

I crept silently through the aisles like a much slower, much smaller ninja, clutching the contraband in my tiny hands.

Surrounding it were a number of decoys, just in case; a sickening, saccharine teenage romance novel, a copy of The Twits, some other book I hadn't read nor had any intention of doing so.

My eyes shifted across the library to where the staff were helping people use the computers. Further in the distance, much smaller children than me sat on plastic bucket stools staring at Spot the Dog panting silently on thick, card pages.

A glance over my shoulder told me that I was quite alone over on this side of the building, the risk of being seen with the forbidden fruit of my smuggling mission was minimal, for now. That hadn't stopped my senses from heightening though, and the smell of pages that betrayed a thousand tales filled my nose.

My favourite smell.