As you move closer to the stack of books,

you see a remarkable variety--fiction, poetry, classic prose, and some that defy description. You notice something else--some of the books' authors lived and died over 400 years ago while other tomes may not yet have been written. In this strange place, all of the volumes are in the same condition--battered and beaten, with great portions that appear to be unreadable. Your hands softly brush the books' broken spines as they decide which to choose.

You see a portion of Shakespeare's first Folio--in its original edition. Beneath it is something called The F*** of Hyperion--you can't make out one of the words. Finally, a dog-eared book titled The Adventures of Ibn Batuta catches your attention.

Not interested, you stop your perusal of the books and turn your attention back to the foyer.