Book maze.

Went to Powell's World of Books the other day. It was hot and muggy downtown. The whole place was crawling with people and the AC just couldn't keep up. I huffed and puffed the stairs of the various rooms for awhile but couldn't find a place to settle. Finally I ventured all the way to the top and the Pearl room was nearly empty. I found a quiet nook in architecture, sat down on the floor and studied unconventional bathrooms for an hour or two. I felt like I had that whole area to myself; no one ever walked by. I think I understand the appeal of a private library more and more, the luxury of being totally alone in a labyrinth of books. Of course, that's usually when the slimy thing with eighteen arms or the deviant security guard comes out from behind the encyclopedias and kills you but those are the risks one has to take.