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a philanthropic ataraxy billows in euphonious ripples against the air in mellow waves. kindred to the diverting waters that lightheartedly crash against the shore of a sandy beach. this exotically outlandish equanimity had embraced a serene melody, a land of cordial quietude miyamura could not decipher.
on silent days like these, his mind would be surging with countless of negativity that was brought upon by his despondent past; but he was at awe at how the mellifluous tranquility flew about in the air, as if it was an antidote to his days of dour.
was it because he made a new friend?—perhaps it was.
he treads along the cemented flooring from a prolonging day, as if he had underwent a phenomenal escapade that had only transpired in fictions. the derivation of his ecstatic solitude was none other than a young girl with locks of velvety brown.
he had never imagined to become friends with someone of high-standard.
as he ponders about the serendipitous matters that occured in this fine thursday morning, his eyes had laid upon a public library, vastly tremendous and grandeur.
"You know there are things you just do on a whim?"
"No. I don't."
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miyamura was entranced by this garden of novels, his mouth agape as he scanned the area as his deep cerulean pools twinkled in evident amusement. the perpetual isles that contained innumerable books of different varieties, a library was surely what you could call a 'sempiternal palace of creativity'.
the smell of books wafts through the air like a foreign scent, causing miyamura to hum in flummox. he glimpses at the librarian, who was currently absorbed in a romance novel between women.
