This is me. We hang out at the local library at least once a week. Mum would drop us there and then go and do some ‘mum’ stuff. Soon enough she’d be back, we’d borrow our books and head home.
We used the library because we had no money. Books were precious commodities, new ones were only given at Christmas and for birthdays – and usually from my grandparents.
I remember very little about how the library looked – but I remember exactly how I felt while I was in there – and it was good.