I knocked. No one answered. The sound seemed to die after it struck my ears, as though I alone had been meant to hear. I released the cool brass knocker and threw myself against the heavy oaken door in a sudden fit of rage. It opened with far too little effort and, lost to surprise and my own momentum, I fell forward.

It was gorgeous. A high ceiling rose far above my head. Shadows danced upon the cracking saffron wallpaper, chased away by sunlight that this hallway had not seen for years. I let myself crash to the ground, finding, to my dismay, the lack of carpet. I ran my fingers along the cool surface of the hardwood floors, tracing the grain as it swirled in patterns of nature's making. For a moment, I was lost within the intricate design, letting myself believe that I had stumbled upon a map of the ebb and flow of fate.

When I lost this path to the rise of wall, I remembered what I had realized long ago - that destiny was far beyond my reach. Numbly, I let the understanding conquer and laid back to watch the ever-foreign light play upon the corners of the room. Cobwebs glistened with the fragile secret knowledge of a time long past. I knew that I would never reach them, that I would never read between those lines. Feeling the remnants of a sigh pass between my lips, I struggled to my feet and took a step into the house beyond.

With a passing glance at the arch of the doorway as I passed beneath, I felt the hall behind me melt into oblivion, taking with it the massive open door and the world which seemed so far away. Every time I took a breath, my being filled with air and dust of ancient loves and lives and words which had, for centuries, waited to be written. I knew without a doubt that the books - those beautifully bound and lined so neatly up upon the shelve - would hold no answers. I could only hope that they would help me find the questions that needed to be asked.

I touched the side of one and it was soft. I pulled it from it's niche and with it burst a cloud of memories that I had never known. I coughed - and understood. I held the book so carefully, comforted by it's weight within my hand. The leather tie fell open and gingerly I took a look inside. The pages, crisp with time, were yellow like the walls, tinted by the wisdom of the ages they had seen. I turned the pages quickly, daunted and enthralled all by what I found.

There was nothing. No thoughts had ever ventured from man unto this book; it was a treasure, sullied not by ink or the delvings of the human mind. I felt a smile play upon my lips, ignoring for a moment the fear which sped the beating of my heart. The book fell closed, still charged with all the power of the stories it might never tell, with the mystery of an emptiness so full. I returned the rarity to its place beside its brethren, turned, and ran from whence I'd come.

I wonder now if I shall ever see that room again. The tale that I saw woven in the knots and flaws of fate assured me that I would. One day, I shall be allowed to find that house once more, venture through its sacred walls. I will sit upon that floor, book in hand, and I will be the one. I will finally see the meanings inscribed between the stars, perceive the hidden depths of life and all therein - and only then can I open the floodgates of my mind and let those empty pages catch the rush of words.