Blaze

A fire warms me as I read a book at a branch library that's not my own. Two chairs support me. One holds my bum, the other my feet. A security guard stops. Comfortable? Yes, very. The seats around me fill up. Some have a book in hand, others a laptop. We are white, yellow, brown, and black sitting around this hearth. No words exchange, but we share this quiet time. I finish a story about fur traders and murder. My mouth opens and closes. No words seem right. We say enough already.

Photo credit: me; Fire credit: me too