She sat in the library and just let the smell and quiet of all the solemn books enfold her. She wanted to lay down and let words cradle her like a lost lover newly found. She belonged here, among the yellowed pages of stories remembered. She stayed in the library until printed letters stained her heart and when she left, the peace of it lingered into her sleep. That night, she rested well, untroubled by the jostle of daily existence.