Here live my shields against the world.
Closing my eyes I inhale the mingling scents of fresh print and ancient, crumbling bindings, until my anxiety ebbs away.
Which do I want?
I move amongst them, nodding to old friends, assessing new arrivals, narrowing down my choices. I need comfort, I decide, the comfort of familiarity.
That means just one thing.
I lift it down, smiling at what a librarian would call ‘slight foxing’ and I call love. Settling it and myself into the chair beneath the window, I reverently ease it open and begin to read.
The world fades away.
Another 100 word post – it seems to be a hard habit to break now I’ve started.
This is a quick picture of one wall of the room that was part of the inspiration for the above: