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.