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Our classes are comprised of a few local full time students, but mostly non-local (even international) students who fly or drive in for the week long classroom time, fill their suitcases with books and then leave for the next three weeks with no intention of returning said books until their use has run out for anyone else.
What's further, even classmates from England have concluded that it is cheaper to pay fines on a late book than to pay the M6 toll, leaving no hope for the rest of us.
Luckily, the school must know of these devious acts to some point and have a surprising number of entire books available in an online catalog. Which has pretty much saved me. But, tonight, given that everyone has been back to campus and our current deadline is looming, useful books are back. I greedily grabbed them off the shelf, hugged them tightly against me while snarling over my shoulder, ready to tackle anyone who might have been looming, waiting for me to hesitate. One extra second on the shelf is still fair game.
I've taken them home, wrapping myself in the warmth of words and knowledge. That soothing balm, bolstering the quality of my assignment and with it, my confidence. In three days, I won't need them anymore, and back on the shelf they'll be ready again to go to the highest bidder.
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