Early Wednesday, the book return chute at the Thornbriar Public Library experienced what staff are diplomatically calling “a brief constitutional moment,” after the metal flap refused to open for patrons and displayed a handwritten note reading: “CLOSED FOR PERSONAL REFLECTION.”
The note—taped from the inside, suggesting troubling dexterity—was discovered by commuter‑reader Belinda Marr, who tried to return a paperback thriller “with only mild commitment.” When the flap didn’t budge, Marr crouched to investigate and spotted the proclamation, written in neat block letters and accented with what she described as “a surprisingly tasteful underline.”
Library Director Duane Follis attempted a reset, only to find the chute emitting a slow, deliberate thunk each time he approached, like a gavel signaling disapproval. “It wasn’t broken,” Follis said. “It was making a point. About what, I do not know.”
Witnesses claim the chute briefly rattled when a patron suggested donating it to the recycling center, though the library has declined to confirm any emotional response.
After approximately fourteen minutes of quiet autonomy, the chute reopened on its own and accepted a backlog of returns with what Follis called “a slightly judgmental gulp.” The edict vanished without a trace, save for one corner of tape found fluttering on the floor “like a spent manifesto.”
The library assures patrons that operations are back to normal, though the staff recommendation box has been moved a discreet five feet farther from the book drop “to minimize political cross‑contamination.”
