Hundreds of books stand on shelves, worlds trapped in the pages. Lives intertwined between sentences.
\nThere is no bigger friend than the book. There is no greater value than what is written.
\nSuddenly the world stopped.
\nThe buses stopped.
\nTireless farmers stopped running on their way to catch the morning.
\nThere are no queues in front of the bakery.
\nThe smell of roasted fish in the market is gone.
\nNobody offers you anything in the market.
\nIt all stopped: Have a nice day.
\nNow, it’s neither funny nor sad. It\u2019s simply: fearful.
\nYou wake up and leave, your watch tailors your day.
\nBut today\u2026 IT DOESN\u2019T.
\nThe habits finally stopped.
\nWhat we dreamed of is a hard exhalation now.
\nRoutines we hated are gone.
\nAnd now we are headless chickens.
\nLook out of your window. The sky is empty.
\nEverything is asleep.
\nThe trains stopped.
\nThe planes fell into sleep.
\nThe return ticket no longer matters.
\nThe deliveries and fast mails are gone.
\nThe people along the riverbank are gone.
\nYou are gone with your strong morning make-up and pretzels in the plastic bag.
\nThe rose selling lady is gone.
\nThe fishermen along the rivers.
\nThe breathless old man with a newspaper under his arm running to get to the morning bus. He is gone too.
\nThe morning habit of coffee on the sidewalk is gone.
\nThe humour became meaningless\u2026sad.
\nWhen everything stopped\u2026THE BOOKS REMAINED.<\/p>\n
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