Living in a Library

Her posture was perfectly shaped for book reading. Shoulders curved and bent over books that were lifted up to eager eyes, ready to wander over sculpted words twisted into life size characters and real places. Rows of thick and etched spines lined the rooms around her as each one had been read, cried over, and then looked for in real life. “It could never be” finales were shelved away on one side of memory and space. Because after all, it’s a truth universally acknowledged that a story beginning with “once upon a time” has to end with “happily ever after.”