Sunny
I don't think I was supposed to be there, hidden between those old shelves lined with dusty books. But it was deserted and so very, blessedly quiet.
The attic of the library. My own, private, retreat.
It was rather ironic; pages—chapters of knowledge surrounded me and yet I ignored them every time I was there. I'd always loosen my tie and sink into one of the ancient, dilapidated chairs that loomed in the center of the room and just think. They were decently filthy with age, but more comfortable than anything I'd dare sit upon in public.
I was always sure the wooden floorboards never made a sound under my feet as I stole away into this place. The air was thick with dust modes in the small room, the strong upper walls of this part of the castle were rounded almost to a point with a single sky-window facing the clouds. Over the years I had grown tall enough to actually see the top surrounding forest.
As I stand here now, in this unchanging place of my own… my mind hangs blank. The trees outside are a deep green; the skies a clouded grey...yet there is no rain. A single sunbeam temporarily blinds me, but only lasts a moment before slipping back into the shelter of the clouds.
I have the feeling this is the last time I shall see this musty hideaway, but I have no doubt it will remain the exact same long after I've gone.