Stepping

I step into the library, and listen.
Silence.
I step into the library, and smell.
Books.
I step into the library, and look.
Shelves, shelves, and more shelves.
I sink into an armchair.
I open my book.
I read.
I fall into a different world.
When the librarian whispers my name, I jerk back into the present.
She tells me they’re closing, and I have to leave.
I step out of the library, and listen.
I hear the hustle bustle of the town.
I step out of the library, and smell.
Gasoline.
I step out of the library, and look.
A long, long way before I can get home and finish my book.