I’ve had dreams of finding myself locked in a library for the night. Sweet, blissful dreams of reading until morning in the utter quiet I can’t find at home. Ditto being locked in a bookstore. In this recurring dream I hide under a table until closing time, fully aware I’m being a naughty thing. In the morning, I sheepishly bring my choices to the cashier. Always, I buy so many books I fill the entire trunk of my car. So, how could the bookstore complain if I just needed a little more time to make up my mind than the average customer?
I’ve also dreamed I’m the Queen of Zambia, but that’s a topic for another time.
The reason I’m telling you all this about my nocturnal obsessions is I found this article at CodyEnterprise.com.
Excerpt:
” Some books are just a bit more engrossing than others, Cody resident Kate Williams believes.
So engrossed was she in reading a tome from the new library’s reference section – which she carted off to a beanbag chair in the Teen Section during an Oct. 11 visit because that was the softest, quietest place she could find at the time – that Williams failed to notice when the library closed for the evening. “
Can anyone blame the woman?
