How quiet it is here.
Or perhaps not, but I fall into a trance-like state that softens the sounds and stills my mind.
In this house of stories, I hear myself think better than I have in years.
I'm at peace here.
Shoes shuffle along the hard-beaten floors at a rate that leaves me settled, my body is a metronome that keeps time and walks apace.
The smell of books.
The dance my hips do as my head cocks to the right and moves along the shelves to read new titles.
I am home here.