The idea that men around here will run to a library never fails to amaze me. They arrive, wheezing our names while holding up a hand, signaling us to wait a moment while they catch their breath in order to ask some burning question. The sound of books being dumped into the drop box outside the library initiates a vague sense of anxiety in my chest, as those who did not run fast enough are turned away. The officer’s voice on the radio: J323 to base, library at capacity. I’m never sure if my anxiety is for those who didn’t make it to the library this time, or for the next hour of madness I am almost surely about to endure. Time passes quickly while I am here. Many things happen that you probably would not see anywhere else. All the conversations, jokes, interesting questions, and situations that make me feel crazy all seem to fade over time. But this picture, this moment, when over a hundred men are running to a library, will stay with me forever

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