wieland-art @wieland-art
The city is dark and cold as I make my way to the library. The sound of raindrops hitting the pavement echoes through the air. It's late at night and there are no people around. As I enter the library, I notice that it is dimly lit and quiet except for the sound of pages turning in the distance. I walk over to the counter where a lone figure sits reading a book. They look up at me as I approach.
The figure is old with a kind face and tired eyes. He has been sitting there all night, watching over the books that line the shelves around him. He asks me what brings me here so late at night and I tell him that I am just looking for something to read. He nods and tells me that he thinks he can help me find something.
He hands me a book with a worn cover. It's an old novel about a young woman who lives in the forest. She has long hair and wears a white dress, which is torn at the neck. I look up at him and ask why he chose this particular book for me. He tells me that it is because the story of the young woman reminds him of myself when I was younger. I smile at this and thank him as I take the book from his hand.
As I walk back home through the rain, I hold the book tightly in my hand and wonder if there really are people like her out there who understand me so completely. But then again maybe she is just a
