To bring my brain back into some sort of focus to progress in a direction of growth, I have been enveloping myself with books when I can. Today, ill, I curled up in bed with my Bunny, as Bess knew her, and a medium-width hardback called "The Lovely Bones." My roommate loaned it to me last week as I was finishing up "What Is the What."
The book is sad in a bright way...sad in sunshine. Another reason to love the book purely is its use of detail to propel plot. I read this book and its perfect blend of words and even though the narrator is dead throughout the book, I was cheered by her love of life. A softer, gingham version of "Our Town." And yet, a deeper, bloodied version.
The text is simple and rich.
And in my illness and confusion, someone draws a curtain back and I see the trees, deep green.
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