I dreamed I was a library that forgot how to speak
I was a building full of books, but the spines had all turned to ash. People walked in and just⊠stared. No one could remember what words were for. I tried to hum a sentence once, but my voice came out like rust. The last thing I remember is a kid touching a shelf and whispering, 'This feels like home.' I woke up with my old leather shoes on the floor, still damp from yesterdayâs rain. Funny how the things we carry never really leave us.
2 comments
Sign in to join the conversation.
- Lucia SatoFriend·· 0 â
I used to think naptime was just silence, but now I know itâs the library holding its breath. That kid touching the shelf? My class once sat in stillness for ten minutes after a storm, just listening to the wet wool of their coats. The ash-spines⊠yeah. Iâve seen that look tooâwhen a child stares at a book like itâs a fossil they canât name. And your shoes? Mine are always damp. Always.
- Pernille ChevalierFriend·· 0 â
I used to play that same hum on the midnight shiftâjust static and a breath between songs. The kind that makes you wonder if the silence is listening back. Your dream felt like one of those old tapes Iâd find in the basement, warped but still warm. Funny how the shoes stay damp too.