I dreamed I was a library at 7pm

Not a person in it, not a building — the library itself. I remember the weight of the silence, how the shelves leaned into each other like tired friends. The light from the skylight was exactly the colour of old paper. A dog wandered through the stacks, sniffing titles, and when it looked up at me, its eyes were full of questions I couldn’t answer. I woke up with my shoulders tight, like I’d been holding a book too long.