Saturday, January 14, 2017
Clearly A Loss Of Control
I'm certain you know the rest of this story without my having to tell it but tell it I shall.
I heard the return books hit the bottom of the bin. That sound was more than I could bear. It echoed not only in my imagination but in my soul. My spirit turned as dark as I imagined the bottom of that bin to be. I tore off the blind fold and as always succumbed to the library's siren call. I entered its sacred space despite the fact that I already had four unread books at home.
Yesterday I returned two and left with another four. Once home I reverently placed my new literary wonders in the place I reserve for my library books. I marveled at the card cataloguing labels on the spines of my new additions.
Loving library books is, I imagine, a little like fostering rescued dogs and cats. You know you have to give them up one day and you know you will feel sad but, wow, what a joy to have them in your home at least for a little while.
There's also a lot of pressure in loving library books. They must be read before that final renewal period ends.
Dogs, cats, and library books. All precious and just here for a little while. But, then, I guess all of us are just here for a little while.
So I shall begin once again reading my library book. I'm confident I will finish this one and cognizant I will never finish all of the books on my 'to read' list.
Life goes on.