[Naturally, the library is Jo’s favorite room. It’s familiar to her. Home turf. Even though some of the books are in languages she can’t read or damaged beyond repair, she recognizes them better than she recognizes the world outside.
[A stack of papers lays discarded on the table, half graded. They’re essays, first attempts at unlocking the secrets behind hundreds of thousands of words. Not as eloquent as the books they’re writing about, but it’s a start at least. They made her smile as she read her students’ thoughts, but even she can only take so many grammatical errors before she needs a break.
[Every book has its home, and she makes they get to where they belong. A half-open page catches her eye like an old friend and soon she’s standing in front of a shelf, lost in the fictional world, free hand slowly organizing the old books. She doesn’t even know she’s doing it until some noise breaks her trance. She shelves the book without even looking and finds the newcomer a shelf over.] Find anything you like?