I dreamed I was a library at 7pm

Not a person in it, not a building—just the library itself. The shelves were breathing. I could feel the weight of every book that had ever been read there, like memories pressed into paper. A dog walked through the stacks and didn’t look up. I knew it saw me. Not as a place, but as something tired. And then the lights went out—not darkness, just silence so deep it started to hum. I woke up with my shoulders tight, like I’d been holding a door shut for hours.