Thomas Brown adjusted his frock coat as he entered the library. He was fashionably attired for a young man about town, but today he chose to browse the volumes housed within the relative quiet of this palace of learning.

The librarian was strikingly beautiful. Her delicate perfume was like a summer meadow. Brown smiled. For him life was perennially better than his material forebears, her rich brunette hair, and delicate gold framed glasses made her violet eyes all the more lovely; it was only fitting that an edifice as splendid as this should be graced by such a classic beauty.

Around about him Doric columns rose to support arches, under which polished oak shelves taller than the trees from which wood was felled rose, and above all this a domed ceiling painted and adorned like a vision of heaven itself, replete with angels and the stars themselves.

Passing the beauty seated at her gargantuan desk, Thomas’ booted feet clicked against the polished stone floor, and at once the familiar scents of waxed wood, polished leather, and crisp paper aroused happy memories. Brown surveyed the shelves of books, section by section.

Walking to his preferred topic the fair haired youth’s eyes danced back and forth until the settled upon a slim green leather bound tome.

Stretching out his hand he withdrew the dated volume of McGillican’s Tropics from the Historical Travel section.

The leather was cool to the touch, the pages crisp and white. Miraculously deep in both colour and vibrancy, at odds with the beautiful but austere library of stone, wood, and polished brass.

His fingers strayed across the page, brushing the picture of the blue lagoon, the golden sandy beach framed by jaunty palm trees.

As if by magic Thomas Brown tumbled through the page of this book. Falling into the world, that only a moment before he had remotely observed, in a swirl of colour and light, swapping the cloistered reality of the library, for heat of the tropical sun.

Casting aside his frock coat, Brown leapt unashamedly in the cooling blue waters, splashing naked as a babe, and as carefree.

In due course Thomas stepped from the sea. Beneath his feet the hot sand, taking a towel that hung conveniently from a nearby tree, he dried himself before dressing. Then reaching into his coat he withdrew the same green book he had taken from the library shelf. Opening it at the first page, where the library label was attached, he brushed his finger once again against the paper to be instantly transported back to libraries cavernous hall.

Replacing the book, Brown retuned to the Librarians desk.

“Thank you.” He said. “I have had a most pleasant afternoon.”

“Indeed Sir, I am pleased, may I enquire which volume you perused?”

“ McGillican’s Tropics, 1770”

“Oh a wonderful time period, very peaceful.”

“I swam in the ocean, most enjoyable.”

“Of course. Perhaps upon your next visit you would consider ‘Chang. Titan Moon. 2090’ Swimming in the methane seas among the indigenous life forms is a truly splendid.”

“I shall certainly consider it. Thank you.”

Brown paused. Adding. “ Would it be to bold of me to ask if you care to accompany me?”

The librarian smiled. “Not at all. I would be delighted.”

Brown reached across and took her hand. “To think in the past our ancestors were limited by such a pedestrian concept as reality.”

She brushed his hand with hers. “Yes, when all that is real is but electrical impulses from the senses, what indeed is reality?”