These days, I don’t see quaint libraries anymore. All the libraries they’ve renovated around my neighborhood are too modern and metallic. Everything echoes. They look like airport terminals.
My great-grandma was 106 or so when she died, and when I last saw her a few years prior to her death, she was still climbing stairs, making her bed, and complaining about retaining all of her teeth. She said it wasn’t natural to have all of her teeth at that age when she had none of her original friends left.
It feels so good to come across someone who knows what “whence” means.