Save libraries

When I was growing up, my public library had special bags just for books. Everyone got one.

You could fill it.

I had my own card. My number was 141.

The librarian squealed when we came. She ran out from behind the big desk and hugged us.

The books in the library were covered in clear film and smelled like tape.

They crinkled when you opened them, like some ancient, priceless tome.

I thought they were just for me. But they were for everyone.

Because anyone could go to the library.

You didn't have to b...