Librarian

There was once a man that had a beautiful library, filled to the point of bursting, with books. Just seeing him on the street in a blueish-white button down shirt and jeans, you wouldn't look twice. He wouldn't look special.

But he had other books, seven to be exact, that stood apart from his library. One was red, one was orange, one was yellow, one was green, one was blue, one was purple, and one was brown. Each giving off a beautiful shimmer. They were leather bound and sat on shelf right next to his bed. They were the most precious things he owned.

Sure he had tons of other books, millions in his library, but he chose to read these for a reason other than a good story.

He would come home from work, eat some bread, sandwich or toast or some other form, for he had not eaten all day. Then he would go to his room, stepping lightly on the hard wooden floors.

He stood directly in front of the shelf, the books at eye level. Then he would admire them, peer at each one carefully, before choosing one in particular (in this case the red book).

As pulled it from its stand, he could already feel it happening. The thing that all stories talked about, fiction or nonfiction. Magic.

He held the story in his arms and felt the sensation climbing his back like warm water. He looked down smiling expectantly, and saw nothing, not even his fancy shoes. It was working. He placed one hand of fingers in front of his face, and peered through their translucence.

He closed his eyes, then, just feeling it travel through him. And then feeling him travel.

When he would open his eyes, he would see a new world, for it was different every time. He would then spend hours, sometimes days, exploring the new place. He always knew it couldn't last, and he always wished it would, but inevitably he would close the book, and open his eyes, and no time will have passed at all.

Then he would place the book back reluctantly, and fall into a sleep.

The next morning he would wake up, brush his teeth, comb his hair, eat breakfast, and dress in business attire.

He would go to work, and nobody passing on the streets would think he was anything special. Nobody would do a double take. Maybe he wasn't all that incredible, but you don't have to be an incredible person, to go incredible places, and do incredible things.