Gloria entered the quiet haven, away from prying eyes and inquisitive ears, and discovered herself in a room that seemed to be heavy with the weight of centuries.
The air was heavy with the smell of stale paper and fading memories, and the area was small. The lack of shutters or ventilators gave the area an air of seclusion, as though it were unaffected by the outside world and remained in a separate era.
A single warm golden light bulb suspended from the ceiling provided the room's faint light, which danced softly on the walls. It cast shadows that resembled eons-old whispers, secrets stashed away in the cracks of time.
In a corner stood rows of worn bookcases, their wooden frames displaying the scars of time and experience. The shelves were stacked with lost manuscripts and dusty tomes, their spines bowed from the weight of the knowledge they contained.
