untouched books crowded his shelves, shiny leather spines and faded first editions, meticulously dusted and never read. unnoticed the moments flex their power, passing into hours, casually creeping across the day. the sun spreads in silence, dressing the emptiness, delivering light and heat and driving back the empty shadows. quietly calmly bursts the break of day. awakened, the books stir and bend, stories start to stumble, congregating with crazy calamity. panicky pages quietly quivering, for they all knew he would appear and so they watch and wait.