Library

They've converted the old apartments to a library. A jungle-like garden spills out of the penthouse and through the vines I see chandeliers and lamps. The books hang suspended without the aid of shelves. Even the floors are invisible. Everything is bathed in an amber light. I feel right at home but before I start looking for books, I try to find traces of the old apartment and in my mind I place markers: This is where we played. This is where his room was. This is where a door used to be.