The Study

This piece is an adapted version of a previous post I had written elsewhere. It was written as an exercise in colorful description and the role it plays in a strong narrative.

The soft leather armchair seemed to sit by itself in the corner. This is a small but familiar room. Lining the walls around the chair are tall tightly packed bookshelves. The slight must of old books fills this study. A large, circular rug rests in the center of the room, hiding in plain sight; while heavily worn, it still brings a warm color to its surroundings. Implanted into the far wall a singular window sits, a living picture of where all things come. Eyes can just make out in the dwindling light and the hazy glass, a sloping green hill running off to the distance. Farther yet is a wood. Pines and evergreens sway in the fleeting daylight. They dance to an imperceptible tune, yet it must be magnificent. Back in the room, a stone mantel leads up to a large fireplace. Here, a life of its own dances in and out of the glowing embers. Every flame trying to outdo the other in height and majesty. Once and a while there will be a muted pop, and a shower of sparks fly out hitting the grate. The floor is made of dark oak wood. Walking about the floor causes a series of squeaks and groans to utter from it. Everything here is in its place. Every book is placed neatly where it belongs. So many people’s thoughts, dreams, fantasies, and concerns haunt this place with their messages. The spiral-bound pages are their last attempts to be heard.