Elias settled into the oldest armchair in the library, its faded leather sighing as he leaned back. A tower of books waited beside him—history, poetry, folktales, even a manual on celestial navigation he’d chosen on a whim. Dust motes drifted through the golden afternoon light, swirling like tiny dancers performing just for him. The hush was absolute, a quiet so deep it felt like a held breath from centuries past.
He opened the first book. Words rose from the page like warm embers, sparking memories he didn’t know he’d kept. He turned each page slowly, savoring the soft rasp of paper, the subtle weight of story. Somewhere far off, a clock ticked, steady as a heartbeat.
Hours slipped by unnoticed. Books migrated from the tall stack to a shorter one at his feet, each leaving him a little fuller, a little calmer. The library embraced him, a sanctuary of ink and silence.
When he finally lifted his gaze, evening shadows stretched between the shelves. Elias closed the last book, feeling the quiet settle inside him. With a lingering smile, he realized it wasn’t solitude he’d found here, but companionship—bound in paper, waiting patiently to be heard. He would return tomorrow.
Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge #350 – Mom With a Blog
Therapy Bits 
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