In the center of the library was his oldest and most valued manuscript. The cover was thin and dulled with no bend, just aged ivory. Hand carved letters adorned with a single jewel on the front. Dust was no longer resting on it but etched in. The value came from age more than its context. Probably older than the country it resided in. Opening the cover expelled a noxious stench. Each turned page was a risk. Brittle yellowing papyrus crumbling loudly. Letters were now ethereal. Bronze Age Writing. The title? Unknown.

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"A study in decay, where the form mirrors the artifact." -C.W. Evers