Enemies of the Library

A balding man at a folding table of neatly stacked pamphlets spoke to Larry in a kind voice. “Would you like to join the Friends of the Library at the family rate of fifty dollars?”

Larry sucked his breath in through his teeth. “Friends? Ooh, that’s gonna be a problem.”

“We have lower levels of membership, if that would better suit your situation.”

“Oh, no, it’s not the cost,” Larry said. He leaned in and lowered his voice. “The thing is, I already joined the Enemies of the Library.”

“The Enemies of the Library? What is that?”

“Well, we’re a small group. Mostly we get together in the aisles and whisper a little too loudly.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“And sometimes we borrow books we don’t even want to read, just to keep anyone else from reading them.”

“Now, that’s not very nice.”

“And sometimes, we take books down and reshelve them instead of putting them on the library carts.”

“No! So you’re the ones!”

Larry nodded smugly.

The man’s face turned an angry red. “Despoilers of civilization.”

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