Can you imagine a quiet library? One with dark wooden shelves. Some public and some more concealed reading nooks? One of those concealed reading nooks is in use by a man and a woman. The man is sharply dressed in a good suit, with multiple books around him, and is clearly doing research. The woman is in a nice blouse and jeans and is just reading a novel while nursing a mug of tea. 

They don't know each other well. They share cordial greetings as they meet in silence in their respective favorite chairs every so often. 

The woman finishes her novel. The man noticed. He asks if she wants to read some of his work that he thinks fits in the novels he has seen her reading. She smiles and takes the small book he hands her. She takes another sip of her tea and starts to read.

Libraries are fun little places. They contain multitudes. Each book opens when a reader comes by and takes it off the shelf. The pages reveal a story that only that reader, in that moment, has the pleasure of taking in. Libraries are private. The whole atmosphere is there to be focused on that moment, on that book. It is a relaxed atmosphere, one where you can relax and trust. 

The writer takes you by the hand, and guides your mind. You follow, curious where it will lead you, ready to be in the guiding hands. It is freeing to read, to become as open as the book you are holding. You can trust the writer, and follow him. His words enter your mind and are all you see right now. 

And that is wonderful, isn't it? You want more of that amazing relaxed feeling, don't you? 

And you might feel a floating tingly feeling growing inside you. A feeling that might be new, but is intense. Let your mind be filled with my words, and your body with my tingles, and obey what you hear.

The man carefully closes the book. The woman is staring, a relaxed and empty smile on her face. She lets the man guide her, as he takes her hand and leads her past the checkout station.