The book of mars

WBTB, back to sleep...

I enter a dream. I'm at a library, in a city, maybe Seattle? There's guards who pat me down, but then let some others in. Why? Oh, they're regulars.
I go in. I'm walking the shelves when I remember books! Books is a dream sign - yes! Is this a faint visualization? No, it's a dream!
I look to the shelves, so excited, and pull a big book out. Large format. It's a symbology book, all the symbols from some ancient culture. Fuck yeah. Each symbol is created using two or three stick-like figures, but someone has gone in and used pencil to make them all doing obscene things like smoking and fucking. OK then. I put it back; the shelf was ILLs.
I'll go upstairs to the fiction section. I have an idea that this library is an amalgam of two that I know IWL, maybe Seattle and somewhere else, but this is a false dream memory really.
The place is super busy. Lots of folks, and seems like a class of kids as well. I look around, trying to find exactly what I want. Cool short stories. But where's the fiction? So much garbage, non fiction, Christan-themed children's books (though the cover was so cool in memory…) I'm low lucid, because I would be delving into any of this had I my full memory. Oh, well.
I find a tiny shelf of some fiction on an end cap. One of the books is an old mystery writer short story collection, but a massive gilded cicada has bored a hole in each book. I yell "Staff? Any staff?!" and someone comes over with a black knit cap on. (Again, low level lucid, or I'd have loved to speak to any of the many DCs here..) I tell him about the books. He seems like he's seen this before and thanks me.
Something about Chase being here.