Standing in line for loaning a book from the library isn’t nice, especially when you really want the book. Finally I have found out that the book is returned. Now I am going to go straight to the library at school and lend it before the other person in line takes it before me. It’s “The fault in our stars”. I have expectations on the book because of everything everyone has said about it. But I still haven’t read it. But soon that is going to change.
The old books fill the shelves that reaches from floor to ceiling. It is very quiet and all you can hear is the low scraping, of paper rubbing against paper, when someone flips a page in a thick book. Maybe the person, just like you, is there to find some peace and quiet and to take a minute to themselves. You will never know the reason to why they are there, the old man with his glasses on the tip of his nose, the middleaged woman who can not seem to find what she is looking for despite how many rounds she walks back and forth between the bookshelves. An old book catches your attention and you pull it out, the books on its sides collapses against eachother as you take away their most vital support. The old, brown book has a dark green cover with a gold ornate swirl frame. When you open it you can hear how the hard papers crackle out of lack of use. This is what libraries are for, to find old treasures and forgotten, unloved, secrets.
– Julia Lidman