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Oct. 21st, 2009 09:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lesliethompkinsEvery resident of this great estate has shared a common love for knowledge. There are books everywhere. In the main library downstairs, the number is seemingly immeasurable. Finer collections of historical manuscripts can only be found at universities. One can't wander the halls of Wayne Manor and not be struck by the hideaways on the second floor. It is one particular hideaway Leslie seeks. It adjoins a bedroom, once occupied by a small boy.
The morning sun shines in through the window against the far wall. At its base is a window seat, large enough to accommodate two adults. Or one adult and a child. Sitting there on the cushion is a book, never shelved and never forgotten.
Without apprehension or fear of intrusion, she picks it up and takes a seat. So many times before she's opened the cover and read aloud. She does so now, if only for herself.
"Alice was beginning to get very tired..."
The morning sun shines in through the window against the far wall. At its base is a window seat, large enough to accommodate two adults. Or one adult and a child. Sitting there on the cushion is a book, never shelved and never forgotten.
Without apprehension or fear of intrusion, she picks it up and takes a seat. So many times before she's opened the cover and read aloud. She does so now, if only for herself.
"Alice was beginning to get very tired..."