The bookcase opened when I tugged on the wall lamp, swinging inward silently. As I entered the little room behind it, I inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of well-loved old books. My bare feet stuck slightly to the dark, polished hardwood floor. I sighed as I approached the middle of the room.

I had set up a fainting couch there. One with soft purple apholstry and beautiful dark wood.

"It's so beautiful," I said to myself as I sat down on it.

I sighed again, content, gripping my book in my hand left hand. What an excellent room!

I stretched myself out on the fainting couch, lounging in my oversized nightshirt and shorts. With my head hanging down over the arm of the couch, I could see out the room's scenic window. It showed an infrequented section of the garden. Bugs flitted busily around the slighlty overgrown flowers and trees, lit by the sinking evening sun.

I adjusted my shoulder length hair so it wouldn't get caught under my neck or head as I pulled my head back to a normal position.

I held up my book with both hands now. It was bound in soft red leather, the title and embelishments embossed into it in gold. I brought it close to my face, once again savoring the smell of the paper. No one should interrupt me here.