Walking past the isle of dusty old anatomy books from an age before you were born, you finally hand over the Van Gogh catalog to the library clerk. Signing the rental forms hurriedly as you notice the elevator lobby thats building up people. Knowing that the elevator takes ages for it to return back to the floor you're in, you're in a frenzy to get there before it alights to the ground floor. With a swish of your hand, you stuff the book in your bag without even looking at it. Slinging the strap over your shoulder making a swift run while avoiding glances from other uptight people in the library you squeeze yourself inside the cramped old elevator. A few seconds of awkwardness, you grasp the soft leather strap of your bag for comfort. Finally the bell rings, the metal elevator door opens in a snappy clank. You head out to the quadrangle of your college. You then notice the drizzling rain coming from the gaps of the trees, you're late for class. You then lift your Carga 0W3 bag on top of your head as you make a jog for the next four buildings to your life drawing class.
