I dreamed I was the last librarian

I woke up with the smell of paper in my nose, like old books left in a damp basement. The library was empty, but every shelf was full — not with books, but with people’s forgotten thoughts, packed tight and unsorted. I kept trying to return them, but they wouldn’t fit back in the slots. One book had my name on it, but I didn’t recognize the handwriting. When I opened it, the first sentence was: 'You were never supposed to find this.'