The wooden floors of the small bookstore always smelled of old paper and fresh rain. Leo sat by the window every Tuesday afternoon. He loved watching the world rush by while he remained perfectly still.
He watched a young couple sharing a single red umbrella across the street. They were laughing and stepping over puddles. The acoustic notes seemed to sync perfectly with their steps. The music made Leo smile. It brought a wave of quiet happiness over him. The wooden floors of the small bookstore always
The woman looked hesitant but accepted them with a small smile. She put the earbuds in. The wooden floors of the small bookstore always