Carolina and I were waiting to get into a library one morning. I had always entered before through a particular door which led down a hall and around a corner to the library. But I now noticed another room to my left with some people waiting in it; perhaps I could enter the library through a door in the rear of that room. Shortly after Carolina and I walked into the room, the door opened and we were let into the library. It had been indeed much quicker.

We walked to the main desk where a man had a large book in front of him. I told him I wanted a book by Henry David Thoreau called Walden. He gave me a list of books. We saw the one we were looking for, and to my dismay, Carolina underlined it with either a pen or pencil. We gave it back to the man and he put it on his open book. But before he did, I pointed out to Carolina that the book had been opened to a page about Thoreau, and in fact a large portrait of Thoreau was on the open page.

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