Worlds in a Room

I dream of a hundred worlds within a room, sunlight filtering in through the sheer curtains, shelves reaching the ceiling, a book in every empty nook. I walk slowly, making my way around the room a maze of books stacked to half my height.

A piano playing softly, as the wind gracefully dances around the room, flitting the pages of open books, fluttering loose papers. The window is open and in the corner that connects the wall of windows, and the shelves, pillows and bean bags in a make shift bed.

I could spent all day here, travelling miles and universes, but still listening to the birds sing as the sun sets over the river.