The Novel Traveler
I walked through the door, the musty air meeting me where I stand.
The place so pleasant, my soul at peace.
The aged wooden floors creaking beneath my step.
I walk beside the sturdy shelves, my fingers drifting over the binding of my familiar friends.
I find my treasure, and hold it close.
Looking around I find my place in leather chair, broken in by years of use.
Placing my legs beneath me, I prepare myself for an adventure.
Getting caught up in the moment of the tale, my eyes flutter close.
Awakening, a beautiful state of being indeed.
What do I see? Roads. Roads leading me places that I never would have gone.
Mountains and valleys I see,
people covering ground,
but that’s not what baffles me.
A mere girl of sixteen, traveling the road and it’s all so familiar.
Her hair, her voice, her eyes, that smile.
I open my mouth, to call out, to find the truth, but as I did, this world vanished.
My eyes flew open, the book fell from my hands.
I jumped up, my heart racing,
confused to the point of desperation, I shelved the book and ran.