The anxious young student grasps the book in his eager hands. His feet, clad in a dirty pair of black Nike Air, fly down four flights of stairs. He rushes to the circulation desk, and impatiently waits for the clerk to type in the number on his student card. He wondered why the library didn't have some sort of card scanner. In an instant, his attention was snapped back to the moment as the assistant handed back the card. The young man strode quickly away, his six foot three stride covering the distance to his spot very quickly. He only paused to take a picture of a Honda superbike that had caught his attention. As he reached his special table, the green upholstered chair pulled him into the soft green fabric. He enthusiastically opened his black messenger bag and removed the precious treasure. He opened the pages and inhaled the sweet smell of the ink. In an instant he was sucked into the past as the author told of times long departed. The taste of the words enveloped his senses... Ever so inviting.