“A librarian remembers the particular scent of glue and dust, and if we’re so lucky – and I was – the smell of parchment, a quiet tanginess, softer than wood pulp or cotton rag. We would bury ourselves in books until flesh and paper became one and ink and blood at last ran together.”

“A librarian remembers the particular scent of glue and dust, and if we’re so lucky – and I was – the smell of parchment, a quiet tanginess, softer than wood pulp or cotton rag. We would bury ourselves in books until flesh and paper became one and ink and blood at last ran together.”

— Erika Swyler