Come on in.
Pull open the wooden door with those giant oversized handles that are smooth and worn down to a light brown finish. Drag your boots over the dirty green carpeted floor that bubbles up in the corners and splashes tiny dust clouds into shimmery orange sunbeams with every step. Feel the calm and comforting library quiet settle like a blanket over your body and your brain as you shuffle past the counters and make your way inside…
Massive atlases, worn-out hardcovers, and crinkly plastiwrapped kids’ books fill rusty metal bookshelves and cover that overly-lacquered table at the front–dented from that time someone smacked it with their motorized scooter in 1990. Yellowed pages with pencil lines, cracked bindings and broken spines cover every corner of the glorious place.
Feel our shared histories softly swirl together through old books and stamped checkout cards as you smile and soak up all of the little library smells of shear….