I’m sitting in the library, pecking away at my manuscript. I've just hit my stride when an announcement comes over the intercom warning me that the library will close in fifteen minutes. “Please bring all materials to the front counter for checkout at this time.”
Okay. Fine. It’s Friday night. 5:00 seems reasonable. I’m disappointed, but I’ll just squeeze in another ten minutes or so and then go.
The announcement has been followed by calliope music.
Loud calliope music.
I’m suddenly transported from the quiet solitude of the library to the bright lights and spinning ferocity of a merry-go-round. Images of smiling horses and brass rings fill my mind.
Is this really necessary?
Do they really need to play this dreadful music as a means of stirring the book-addled masses?
Oh good. It’s stopped.
No. Wait. Another announcement. “Ten minutes to go.”
And then… more music. The same music. Again.
I should’ve gone to Starbucks.