The library

You dreamed of a vast library, evening sunlight on the wooden floor and the spines of the books. As far as you could see, shelves full of books with blank covers: no titles, no names. Anonymous readers were seated along great tables. You entered with some confidence, still full of the bustle of the streets and shops. You were the only living man in this place, the only one with something to bring to these shelves, these tables. But doubts crept into you, and a strange loneliness, as if the library were not so easily dismissed.


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