Neatly organized shelves running up and down the walls, filled with rows and rows of books.
The gentle rustle of pages as readers intently drink in the inked words contained in the yellowing paper.
Peaceful quiet, despite the many people residing.
The soft, reminiscent scent of old books tenderly mixing with the crisp, exciting aroma of the new.
Hidden in each is a unique personality, made up of every beautiful quality and flaw.
Splendidly bound hardbacks, beat up paperbacks, scribbled notes, highlighted pages, careful drawings and messy sketches, each and every word transporting you to a reality of it's own design.
A library isn't simply a room of books, there to inform of things long dead.
It's a gateway, a threshold, to a million worlds, all waiting for your touch to come to life.
Set them free.
YOU ARE READING
Ramblings
RandomThis is where I will write random ideas or stand-alone paragraphs that are completely ridiculous, and as I said before, random.
