May 25, 2010
By allisonwonder BRONZE, Mountville, Pennsylvania
allisonwonder BRONZE, Mountville, Pennsylvania
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The very moment I walk through the door, I can sense the knowledge around me. I feel its presence as it whispers to me the secrets of the past. The overwhelming urgency and excitement engulf me as I do my best to stay grounded in reality. I try to push my thoughts away, but deep down I know the truth; there will never be enough time in the world.

They beckon to me from every side. I want nothing more but to run my fingers over them, one by one, giving each a turn to tempt me. I yearn to hold them all and marvel in their differences. I can almost feel their age weighing in my hands as I let my fingers run freely down their spines. My fingers feel the roughness scarred by time but also a tenderness that wisdom leaves behind.

As the musty air fills my lungs, I know that nowhere does there exist a sweeter smell. I can’t help but fill my chest to capacity with each breath I take. My body desires to savor every drop, but I know that’s not why I’m here.

I can’t help but stare in awe at their beauty as my amazement soars at seeing no two alike. Their covers are all different, each telling a journey of its own. As I hold them each in turn, my eyes marvel at the differences in their fonts and design. Some are large, yet others are much smaller. Some have covers made up of vibrant clothes or rich leathers, and still others are worn and faded. I see them all before me, and I know merely turning the cover of any could sweep me up into an adventure, taking me places not even my imagination knows.

I hear voices all around me as they fight for my attention. The voices grow louder as each becomes more eager to tell its tale. I could spend hours in this place basking in the sound, for it is one of the most beautiful things my ears have ever heard. My heart throbs to absorb the knowledge held behind every voice. Even before my eyes open, I somehow know there won’t be a million bodies to which the voices belong. My heart sinks with a heaviness of knowing what is true, but in the same moment I remember the one thing that has always kept me coming back for more. Somewhere in the world, at some point in time, every voice in my head belonged to the body of a great writer.

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