He'd built such a wall around himself, he didn't know if even he could figure out the way through.Or maybe unfold some old yellow lost love letters.Th... letters she'd thrown at his feet were now on the table. When he'd picked them up, he didn't know. He'd been in a whiskey soaked haze since he'd heard the door slam behind her. He went to the table and picked them up now, his heart breaking, tears threatening as he read the words he'd written to her years ago. Words of love and need, of wanting. The wooden shelves, the stair case, the balcony around the upper level, were all made of wood, and were all dark with age. If one looked closely, worn spots could be seen where a hand had grasped a stair railing, or where a foot had trod the same place over and over. It was a library that was used, not just a showplace for a collection that was never picked up and held. Justin found that extremely satisfying and proper. ‘You enjoy books I see,’ said Rain, the hint of a smile coming through in. More

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