FEEL OF A BOOK
He stood in his quarters, stress already dropping off his shoulders. Most of the room went unnoticed. His focus was on a single object laying atop the table beside his comfortable armchair. A new book by his favourite author.
His break would only last thirty minutes but he still moved slowly, letting his hand brush across the top of the book before he sat down beside it. Then he leaned forward, excitement bubbling through him, and picked up the tome. He felt the weight of it, the heavy cover, the touch of the paper still locked away inside.
He brought the book closer, inhaling deeply. His fingers continued to trace the outside, desperate to get inside but he wouldn’t let them. Not yet.
He settled back into his chair, placing the book reverentially on his lap. He
