The mind grew tired of all the information flowing in. 

It needed to stop thinking, just for a second. Just pause for a moment and not expand and heat up for a while. 

Not thinking about getting bus to the office and then about reaching on time. 

Not thinking about the pressure you’ll be put under. The deadlines of finishing and getting engaged in the new ones. 

Not thinking about the mood of your boss and how you’ll be treated. 

Not thinking about the posts on social media adding to the existing heap. About how your colleagues and friends are getting engaged, married or pregnant. Or how some are just enjoying their life in the nature with the internet. Enjoying. (Really?)

Not thinking about how your parents, instilling their worries of finding a prospective match for you, now that you cannot control your growing age or your declining progress. 

The mind just decided to let it all go. All of a sudden, it smelled something. An old, rusty smell that was coming from the desk. 

A novel. A torn, tanned papered, smelly old novel! 

Just opened it.  Switched to another world. 

Image from Google

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