It had to have been a dream. What else could it have been even though it seemed so real at the time.
I was standing in the weirdest library. Books stretched from one end of the room to the other. To make it more puzzling, the books were in every shade of blue you could imagine.
I found myself lost within the titles. There were medium-sized titles such as “Unrealistic Realities” to paper-thin texts like “Things my Father Taught Me’.
The one that did intrigue me was a rather thick tome, of about twelve hundred pages, “Famous Arseholes” and sure enough, as I perused the pages, there were the names of so many of histories famous identities. Added to the famous names were those of people I knew, neighbours, uncles and aunts whose reputations were long sullied by the course of history.
There were humorous texts, “The Answer to the Question you Ask”, “The Gym and How to Avoid it’.
It seemed that no matter where I looked, the titles were expansive and engaging.
A voice spoke behind me: “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Turning, I saw a small bespectacled man, a pince-nez attached to his nose and a most engaging look in his eyes. I didn’t expect to meet anyone in the library, but he announced himself as the Librarian to the Imagination, and he was here to serve as best he could.
“I don’t think so,” I replied, “they are all just paintings, and I’m enjoying the titles.”
“Paintings, you say? Are you sure?”
And with that, he extracted a copy of “Things You Might Not Do With Flowers” and laid it out in front of me.
“Very popular among the florists,” he said his fingers caressing the pages. Then again, “When You Thought You Were Helping” has been a most thumbed volume with the charity sector.
Each book he returned to the shelf it came from and to me it was all an illusion until I was sure he was just as much an illusion as everything else.
There was a part of me that urged me to wake up, I fought the reality of it all and sought some relief from the images.
Finally, I sat up and breathed a sigh of relief, then looking across the room on my wall I saw:
Image from the “Long Story Short” exhibition by Lucas Grogan.
What a vivid imagination.
Hi Sadje imagination is what makes me tick.
How calm your dream. No one slamming doors, no shouting… guess you don’t snore 🙂
Lol there are some who would say otherwise
While myself, I don’t need to be told. I wake myself!
Blue is such a calming colour Michael. Good story.
Thanks so much Di.
you are most welcome
Timely prompt as one of the books I acquired (from somewhere…) is called: The Invisible Library by Genevieve Gogman (ISBN 978-1-101-98864-0)!
Engaging dream! 🙂
Excellent story telling, Michael. And I love the photo too.
Thanks so much Violet. The library has generated a lot of laughter while on display currently.