Sometimes I get bored

The number of notebooks was astonishing. Shelves were full of them. There were books too, so many books, the covered most of the walls.
He picked one of the notebooks at random. It was covered with her neat handwriting, clearly synthesizing the knowledge she acquired. Her dedication was impressive.
She was organized to a point he had rarely seen. this volume was about her experiments of growing plants. Soil, water, sun, everything was meticulously recorded.
Apart from the books, items were displayed on the shelves, showing how diverse her passions were.
The next notebook was full of grammar exercises of what he recognized as German. Same handwriting. No flourish. He was impressed.

The problem was that dust had settled.
No one had watered the plants for a while.
She had been gone for days.

On the mantlepiece was an altar dedicated to some king of Goddess. A small statue of a woman surrounded by candles and semi precious rocks.