Reverie

by Ryan La Sala

“I read it. I can see why you love it. You should try a little harder to hold on to the things you love.”

The bridge wasn’t falling; the feeling of collapse was within him.

Kane turned to the room of stolen dreams, and he recalled the library of his childhood. The feeling of thick air and soft spines, of tilting your head sideways to read the names of authors. Mostly, Kane recalled the intoxicating potential of it all. For a child like Kane, potential was his forever friend.