Eldridge
Eldridge was, as expected, in the tallest room of the tower. Exhausted, Benn wondered why the old man made this climb every day.
The books are here, it’s peaceful, and the birds visit, a voice in their head answered.
“I’m sorry magic found you so late,” Benn blurted, embarrassed by the abrupt statement.
“Dear child,” Eldridge looked up in surprise. “Do not be sorry about that. I am simply delighted that it found me at all.”
“I hope it finds me someday.”
Eldridge gestured to the books and smiled. Galaxies swirled within his eyes.
“Have you tried searching for it?”
Written in response to Friday Fictioneers, a weekly 100-word writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Come and play along!
Thomas Charles Henry 
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