Fiction logo

Lost and Found

The pull of home is forever

By Charlotte StetsonPublished about a year ago 1 min read
Lost and Found
Photo by Matteo Maretto on Unsplash

My search ends in an impossibly old New England library, hewn stone, round turret. Wheelchair ramp inartfully added beside dangerously worn steps. It smells like a library: pages crackle when they turn; bindings lay flat; remnants of readers wander cramped stacks. Books, magazine racks and computer tables shoulder each other for space.

Zagging through ever narrower spaces to a dark corner, by the radiator snuggled up to flammable books, I find it. Green cover worn so the threads show, corners soft as a baby blanket. I open the book, glowing rays escape, engulfing me. Back home after all these centuries.

Fantasy

About the Creator

Charlotte Stetson

Enjoyed the story?
Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

    Charlotte StetsonWritten by Charlotte Stetson

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.