The Unfinished Story

When this book was found, if was dusted over in an old structure; by the place he lived, he supposed.

The trees swished and sighed in the wind, as the rain belted down onto the old torn up roof.
Finding it's way in through the mess of whatever was left of it.

Though, the people aren't familiar, and neither are the places, he can't help but feel a little nostalgic reading it.

Maybe it's just that time again.

Or maybe, he was supposed to find it. Maybe to remember.