As he approached the library in the early evening he realised that something was dreadfully wrong.

Normally at this time the library would be buzzing with activity; people coming and going, smiling and nodding and exchanging a quick word with a friend.

Tonight was very different.

Inside the library the lights were flickering. Cars were parked haphazardly all over the parking lot. Some people were sagging listlessly on the bench outside the front door. A young man was sitting next to an older man who was clearly a homeless person, yet he did not seem uncomfortable.

With the hair on his neck bristling, he pushed through the revolving door into the library.

Inside there were books strewn all over the floor. A handful of people were cavorting around, pulling books from the shelves. Some of them were flipping through the pages, others were staring fixedly at some picture or phrase, and one was chewing on the cover of a book in a complementative fashion.

“Good evening, Doctor.” They said in a choral voice