The Library

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The scent is utterly recognizable. To him it is serenity. To some the musk, the leather and the age would bring up disconcerting emotions. For him, his blood pressure drops and his mind clears. There is no description that can do the ambiance justice. This is a place while full is vacant of any worries.

The need to escape now is greater than ever. Destruction, death and apathy weigh heavily on the soul. It ages a man far past his years, the lines are added to his face, the stress upon his heart. An escape if only for a moment can bring immeasurable relief.

He enters the room fully and makes his way to his faithful chair. Sinking into it, he closes his eyes and reaches for the side table out of instinct. His fingertips feel the etched writing on its spine. Opening his eyes the book, The Great Gatsby, was in front of him. His eyes adjusted to the text, he let go of any remaining grasp on reality.

Survival if only for a page was undeniably his.

A slice of paradise

 

In the midst of a ten-hour workday, I struggle, I struggle to find a way to make it to the end of the day. The job is mundane, the location covered in dust but it is a paycheck, and I simply cannot walk away. In the darkest moments, exhausted; my brow furrowed with sweat I search for a way, any way to make the time pass. Escape exists in my imagination, the ability to transport myself to another place; a place all to myself, my toes dipping into the crystal clear water, my skin soaking up the skin. I know it won’t be today, and it may not be for a long time but one day I will get there, the Philippines.