Slowly, ever so steadily, the spirits that were Liesel and Art ebbed into ink that slipped between
the recesses of the books’ pages. As their seats became empty once more, Leah gingerly
dusted off her beloved volumes. She carefully slid them back into their respective spots on her
shelf. She hoped to revisit them again. For now, they stood, under the light of a black wire
chandelier, watching with a warm gaze upon her passing in and out of her room cluttered with
green and milky white decor. The books were content with that for now- they truly were. Two
wandering spirits among a human. Two collections of pages, pulsing with words, among a girl,
pulsing with life. Two ghosts of a story among a real one. Two to be read, and one to read
them.