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Weekly Contest #291
Hank sat in his antique chair in the dark library, it smelled of old parchment, leather bound books, and musty years gone by. While he sat at the windowsill a sliver of light gleamed through dark maroon tapestry holding back the full onslaught of day, he watched a symphonic ballet of dust particles dancing, swirling, and churning, floating up and down and around to unheard music, a sudden gust of wind disrupted the tranquil overture that had him transfixed. “Hank, Hank! You must come see what I have found.” Sarah said rushing in the room. Ha...
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