She walks over to the bookcases that stand tall and still, like soldiers awaiting orders.
Her fingers softly stroke across the ancient bindings of books that look like they have never seen the light of day.
She stops in front of a pile of books that lie on the ground like an avalanche of paper.
They are filled with centuries of knowledge, adventure, romance, tragedy and survival.
Across the room, an old librarian sits behind a desk, her fingers flying across a keyboard, as if her life depends on it.
In the corner, a spiral staircase twirls up like a snake wrapped around a tree trunk.
As she wanders around, she watches as dust settles on an old leather couch that is an ageing world.
It is worn from the many years of transporting people to another world through stories.
