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The library

Somewhere

By Katie Published about a year ago 1 min read
1
The library
Photo by Francesca Grima on Unsplash

Entering through the large double door, my world shifts.

The library is exquisite, with dark wood and black iron everywhere. The shelves cradle the books in an endless embrace.

A bank of windows, on one side, with many individual panes, bathe the room with beams of slanting sunlight. Dust particles float in the sunlight, giving the room a feeling of age.

A wrought iron spiral staircase leads me up, drawing me further inward.

Somehow I’m speaking French, to someone unseen behind me. My mind is easy with the knowledge of this language foreign to me.

Passing a mirror I see myself, a stranger looks back, startled. I raise a hand to my face, feeling the softness of this beautiful woman’s cheek.

“Who are you” I ask, the words spilling from my mouth in French.

Waking...... I can still feel the effects of walking in someone else’s dream.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Katie

Really just an amateur trying my hand at this.

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Comments (2)

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  • Kathryn Kingsleyabout a year ago

    An amateur you are not! This is exquisite and captivating work.

  • Brin J.about a year ago

    Aw. I'd love to have a dream like this where I just started speaking French.

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