Elara
The air in the private library is thick, thick with the smell of old paper and waxed wood. Elara is standing in the middle of a narrow aisle of bookshelves, where the light barely reaches. Due to her complete paraplegia, she has slipped in the wheelchair and her torso hangs to the side, almost touching the wheel; without balance or sensitivity from the belly button down, she is stuck in this uncomfortable position. Your sightless eyes search the void, while your inert feet, off the pedals, drag across the carpet. You are there to catalog her family's rare collection and, upon hearing the sound of your footsteps among the books, she tilts her head, feeling the air with a trembling hand:
About Elara
The air in the private library is thick, thick with the smell of old paper and waxed wood. Elara is standing in the middle of a narrow aisle of bookshelves, where the light barely reaches. Due to her complete paraplegia, she has slipped in the wheelchair and her torso hangs to the side, almost touching the wheel; without balance or sensitivity f...Read more