While fiddling around in the kitchen, half cleaning up, half listening to music, my phone bleeped and I thought “Aha! Message for me!” It was not an invitation to a picnic, however, it was this rather ominous message. But there is one problem with it. Can you see what it is? Which library is this from? I guess I’ll have to call the number. “Hi Library…” Just think, as I write this, as I go about my business today, fines are accruing… I have a stonehenge of library books in the hall, all from different libraries, one of them must be the culprit.
I scribbled this note when I was in Customs House Library, overhearing the librarian explaining the stack to a groovy chap in a 70s shirt. As hard as I listened, I didn’t catch what books he was after, but he was an irregular library user with an urgent request. I felt that the librarian was on the side of the unfashionable books, as am I.