While I am expecting to hear my voice echo across the empty library, my voice disperses into the surroundings so quickly, as if it is absorbed into the environment.
It is even relatively proper to assume this place to be only slightly better than an anechoic chamber. Or even, mediums that transmit the sound simply do not exist. There is no air around me… Perhaps because in dreams, we never need to breathe.
Is this the library I always visited? It seems so familiar, meanwhile it feels so strange. Something is different about this place, something intangible, something unutterable… Not all elements in dreams are distinctive from reality, yet from the event I encountered in my dream for the last few nights, unforeseen danger always had me ambushed.
