The person I wish I could be.

Library

Leah's library is a part of her. It's where she goes when she's sad, angry or stressed. It's her happy place. Where she can go to unwind. The comforting smell of the open fire and the cinnamon candles gives a grounding, homely feel to the room.

The walls are filled to the top with books. Latin books, Spell books, but most of all, story books. Leah loved to get lost in a fictional world. It made the one she lived in seem less fucked up. Leah's books are her pride and joy, she's read them all at least once.

Leah's armchair is by the fire, a vintage brown leather armchair, furnished with two fuzzy plum cushions. And ornamental shelf is set above the fire place, it holds the snow globes that her friends bring her from their travels. She has one from Venus, a dear friend, from when she visited London. Leah's home town.

The centre piece of Leah's Library is a stained glass window, with a strange poem, of sorts, carved into the middle.
It's reads:
"Two paths divergent, you choose the one less traveled. It leads you through the Shire and up past Animal Farm. Up ahead you spot a little house on the prairie and inside you find three bears, Paddington, Rupert and Grylls. Back outside the wind blows in the willows and you pass a hitchhiker, who offers you a guide to the galaxy. You go down a rabbit hole, and find a passage to India and arrive out of Africa. On the horizon lies a brand new world."

Leah has this in her house to remind her of the places she's been, whether she visits them in person or in story form, she won't let on. She likes to be mysterious,  you see. She likes to think her little corner of magic will keep the story alive. And so it will.