Ah! The smell of the untouched, unopened pages: the aroma of unexperienced joy.
The crackle of the crisp, fresh paper: the promise of a new world; so we may escape and be lost in the wonders of a different universe.
And basking in this respite from the anarchy of our reality, I think; somewhere out there, in trembling hands, must lie the book of our existence, ready to save them from the anarchy of theirs.

'Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated in New Delhi at twenty minutes past five this afternoon. His assassin was a Hindu.'
-Radio announcement after Gandhiji's death.

[Freedon at Midnight]