Anna painted a picture of the spot in her mind’s eye and filed it away as a place of refuse. She stood on her toes for a better view, making out a warren of shelves stretching from floor to ceiling, crammed with a comforting blur of books. Anna peered through the window even more hungrily than Edmund had at the sweet shop. Not much farther on, a small but solid stone building one a corner overlooking the square bore a sign announcing itself as the village lending library. Müller’s library in A Place to Hang the Moon. The internet is full of loud, wannabe news aggregators and political pundits ready to assault you with their opinions. Eventually, I accepted it for the compliment it was. I have a friend who called the IG story of my messy library desk “wholesome content.” My first reaction was to cringe because my job and contract with the Diocese paint me into a very safe, vanilla corner of the internet. I am an Amazon affiliate and earn commissions for purchases made through links in this post.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |