Gemotions

The library was quiet, a haven of hushed whispers and rustling pages. Thomas wandered the aisles, the scent of old paper and ink a familiar comfort. He chose a worn leather-bound book, sinking into a large armchair near the window. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees outside, creating dancing patterns on the floor. He felt a sense of belonging in this place.

A young man approached him, a curious expression on his face. "Do you also experience… a vivid inner landscape when you read?" he asked, his voice low. "Like the words become a movie inside your head."

Thomas nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Absolutely," he replied. "And sometimes, I get lost in them for hours."