I find him reading in his study, pouring over ancient books in languages that are considered dead. his back is to me, but I can see the muscles in his shoulders work as he writes down feverishly. I lay against the door frame quietly and he stills for a moment. I know he knows I'm there, but he bends over his books again and ignores me.
This is heartbreakingly beautiful. I really enjoy your beautiful writing.... :)
ReplyDeletewe are at a time in this current age when ancient books will be the only books left
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