middle

• turning the corner i approached the library-a sanctuary in my youth. its grand door stood ajar inviting yet forboding
• Inside the chairs disregarded as it left in a rush, carts layed toppled books strewn like fallen soliders
• i navigated the debris drawn to a familiar corner

  there beneath a collapsed beam lay a book its pages yellow and cover torn
• gingerly i picked it up, memories flooding back. it was the first book i ever borrowed
• clutching it, i settled into a dusty armchair, the leather cracked as i read.
• 
  

  the world began to fade away replaced with happy memories. and for a moment the weight of solitude lifted
• a sudden noise jolted me, a soft thud from upstairs, heart pounding i crept up the staircase each step creaking underneath
• at the top. a door stood slightly open, light streaming through. pushing it slightly
• "hello" i said softly "im not here to hurt you"

  she hesitated then lowered her weapon "are you real?"

  i nodded "as real as you are"

  tears welled in her eyes "i thought i was the only one left"
• we sat together, connecting and for the first time in a while i felt hope