Bookworm

Deep down dark, in the dusty heart of a towering library, with looming walls of ancient leather bound mouthes, a girl with sparkle starburst eyes and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, stands high above the ground, with books all around, on a creaking oak ladder. With a swift kick, a well practiced flick of the ankle, she sends herself skimming, with a grinding slide, on a sideways clatter ride. On oil and steel, her tool for the detailed scanning of the ballet of the world in paper, never fails her. The all surrounding amalgamation of almanacs and anthologies in slivers of pulp, represent but the tiniest facet of the infinite human imagination. It is true, our frail attempts at documenting the universe will always be restricted by the tragically blinkered eyes of language. However, she finds it all so overwhelmingly beautiful...and if the walls do indeed harbour invisible ears, they'd surely hear her sing their praises into the rafters.