I'm walking with a friend in strange, beautiful halls. This isn't our final destination, but rather some place above, or after it. Still, we stop to explore. All halls look similar - towering cylindrical (or maybe octogonal or decagonal) rooms, at least 10 or 15 meters high. The walls, floor and ceiling all are beautiful white marble. Along the walls are long white windows which seem evenly lit, filling the place with white light. The most impressive, though, were the bookshelves - the walls were mostly covered with wooden bookshelves, except on places like pillars or windows. All shelves were filled with books of all kinds, sizes and colors. There were thousands of them, too many for even a lifetime. I stared in disbelief at the towering shelves, up to the ceiling, which ended in some kind of dome.

Impressively, there were also shelves on the dome. It was divided in four segments, with four shelves evenly placed. There were books on them, impossibly. Some were neatly organized, some dangled in strange ways, others seemed to have been forcefully fitted on the shelves and about to fall. That was impossible... how could something like that happen? I didn't seem to actually think much about it, but strangely there were no ladders around, making the access to any of those books virtually impossible. I notice that on the middle of the dome in the ceiling is a hole leading to another lit area. Somehow, I knew that it was another library like that one, with it's own unique books. I could see a large wood door on a wall across from where we were (for these rooms were not only tall, but wide). After it was a short, darker corridor and another room. I somehow there were many other libraries like this one in this place.