snippet from untitled writing
untitled writing

I shielded my eyes, wincing with the light. The room was illuminated, bringing shape and color to the objects around me. It was almost overwhelming; books upon books drowned out the walls. Books lay on the floor; books and their pages, nearly torn, were everywhere.
I had assumed with the fancy computer, books would serve no purpose, let alone this entire library. Perhaps it was the element of the library that had signifigance. Any home in this era could have a computer, but a library was sacred.
In my own world, the 1930's, the library was a place I frequented. If the smell of books were a cologne, it would be the sweetest. However, if you took away the books, you'd still have the library. It was a safe place to go, still like a frozen lake, undisturbed, away from the world. I could collect my thoughts. Thats what a library was, the sliver of a place between the home and the busy world. Where pens could graze paper and the mind would bleed out in the ink.
It occurred to me that Cassius' thoughts were here too, between every page. I picked up a book from the ground, it had a dusty cover, which I blew on lightly. "The Tale of Blah Blah."
I wondered if this was something he read as a child. I flipped through every dog eared page, some with small grungy finger prints. I came to one page with a brittle four leaf clover pressed inside, and picked it up, delicately, as if it was a holy relic. I wondered how old is was, and then I began to wonder if I came to this room to find out about Actaeon or to find out more about Cassius.
I put the book back to sleep, on the floor, to not be picked up again for however many years.
I turned to the computer, then realized I was unaware how to operate it. I glanced around, for some sort of manual, and rummaged about his desk, careful not to disrupt the organised chaos. Cassius seemed like the type to notice a fragment of dissarrary not caused by him.
I picked up a folder, and underneath it, was a picture. I glanced away, thinking it was significant, but then the thought registered. I did a double take. This was a picture of Actaeon.
I held it before me, turning it in the light, trying to grasp it from different angles. What

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