The description for this piece says it is "awful", but I severely disagree. This piece is a rather vivid work, while holding a sense of mystery about the idea that such a routine thing as walking into a library could be focused upon and improved upon. The concept of ink being a pain to your fingers gives life to your hands, saying that staining the skin of your fingers is like dirtying the skin of your face or desecrating the image of a respected person or idea; it is hurt, maybe not in the conventional sense. A rustic feel of history and wonder is added by the line "then pick the bulb. One that flickers", suggesting that libraries are to respect the works of past writers, and that to respect them is to view their products in the manner they had to read them: in the musty and poorly lit rooms some had to work fervently in because there was simply no other way to do what they did.

The enigmatic nature of the inclusion of "wearing silk", letting your "feet shuffle", and looking for a "natural light source", only to choose a lightbulb thereafter, gives this piece the presence that it would otherwise lack. Rather than simply state a literal how-to on walking into a library, the writer makes this a very personal and very cryptic writing, making you think of your reactions to and feelings derived from the words to perceive the meaning of the overall piece.

I love this piece and give it a 4.5 star vision, 4.5 star originality, 4 stars for technique (the focus of this piece seems to be on the meaning and purpose, rather than using technique to achieve the effect), and a 4.5 star impact for the esoteric style of the writing. A definite for my Favourites.