My first stop at the end of the work week is the library. My face is streaked with dirt, my shirt no longer resembles any shade of white, and I smell. None of this is able to dissuade me from succumbing to the lure of the library shelves, the books crying out to be read. This week I walked away with 9 books on various subjects. I have no hope of reading them all (or even two) before they are due, but it comforts me to know they are with me. The possibility of reading them is thrilling.
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