I romp with joy in the bookish dark. I hope the black doesn’t swallow the books or even me. With reading I feel a little bit calmer, thinking of places that don’t exist or I’ve never seen before. The sound of the environment makes me look up, but nothing can be seen so I just close my eyes. With only my sense of hearing I’m able to locate where the sound is coming from but not who or what is making it. Maybe dogs, maybe a man, or just a machine that got lost in the library. I´m all alone, not even the librarian is here, which is weird because she never leaves her spot. Was she tired? Thirsty? Or did she just disappear? No one shall know because the night doesn’t reveal anything.