Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library Novels & Stories

It was a space where students could not only study but also dream, a place where my uncle’s memory would live on through the love of learning it would inspire. I paused at the grand entrance of the library as I was about to leave and tell the crew that they could start painting, gazing at the bronze plaque that bore my uncle’s name. It read ‘The Ben L. Anderson Memorial Library,” a testament to his passion for literature and his dedication to get this place up and running. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized that this project was so much more than just bricks and a roof. This was keeping his memory alive, to share his love for reading with future generations.

They played car racing and Annika kept on hitting the road side. After showing the game room, Kurt showed Annika their library. This was Annika’s most favorite part of Kurt’s house because she loves reading books. The library had too many books to count. It was a lot bigger than a book shop. Annika looked like a little girl in a candy store. “You can borrow some books here if you like.” Annika smiled. “Really?” Kurt nodded. “No one ever uses it.”

The warmth flooded my system quickly, which made me sigh in bliss and after that I went to the storeroom. The Veltonne Regional Library was one of the most modest in the country, yet it was a regional repository, so it had one of the largest subway storage facilities of all. The place was as big as four whole blocks, so a novice could easily get lost. However, I knew this place like the back of my hand because my mother had worked as a book curator.