It had been a dreary sort of day, though the sun had been brilliant. The boy she had dislodged her heart for had chosen another in her stead. It made the most vibrant colors cross her vision as muted; it made her pulse weaken as if she lay on her deathbed. The slighted woman felt homeless all of a sudden. She yearned for an escape; somewhere to call home. Distressed, she went in search of comfort.
Books had always been there. When mother had left they had called to her. Such tomes eased her childhood tears and melted her motherless sorrows. This was one such day. She needed them again.
Into the private library she crept, as cautious as a mouse. No one knew this was her safe haven. Her elders assumed she only cared for fast music, handsome devil may care suitors, and expensive frocks. No, for this lanky youth it was words which drove her dizzy with delight.
The voices of the past made her feel as if she were not alone, but alive in a thriving metropolis of free thinkers. Stories were her family. Among the tales of old she would be welcomed as a beloved one.
Tears splashed down the delicate cheekbone. No bother. Soon she would be somewhere else, someone else. Pulling a dusty worn fantasy novel from its shelf, the reader sat herself down. For a moment she caressed the binding with reverence. Yes, this one felt like the right choice.
With a flick of her wrist, chapter one was laid bare before her. Almost instantly smoke began to rise from her latest literary treasure. The heartbroken young woman closed her eyes then sadly smiled. Time to go on another adventure; time to forget about love gone wrong.
When she opened her eyes she was no longer at her uncle’s. No sir. Instead, a lush wood surrounded her. Into its dark depths she traveled, patiently waiting for her story to begin.