Why Are We Humans So Obsessed With Murder?
Does anyone have any ideas on this subject matter?
I am an avid reader, fortunate enough to live in a suburb that has a highly regarded public library just a few minutes walk from my home.
I look upon the library as an oasis of sanity in a world where one has to take a time out now and then and have a dandelion break.
In the summer, a center courtyard in the library is peppered with shade trees and populated with a dozen or so tables with chairs and is a wonderful refuge of calm. There is a booth inside the library that sells excellent coffee and snacks priced around 60% of the coffee shops in the area.
The interior of the library is well furnished with more than enough armchairs, tables (some with chess games set up), privacy booths for laptop users, quiet rooms, and many other facilities including recording booths, a newspaper room, and meeting rooms. The library also accommodates children and young readers with a kids' library that takes up the whole mezzanine floor.
The library has books for every reading taste which brings me to the point of this article.
