This week I discovered a breathtaker of a book,
written by this alluring femme named Sophie Dahl.
It is the thinnest, loveliest read I have touched fingers on in quite some time. Who would ever have thought that fairy tales written for adults were just a stone's throw away on the nearest library's bookshelf? Not I. So this is a precious find for me.
If I were you, I would not hesitate to hunt this nombre down and thus give your eyes and heart a delicious feast. I felt a warmth while and after devouring the volume, but not in a stupid or cliche sort of way. I just felt lighter, happier...a smile playing on my lips paired with a quirky sense of spirit.
Here are a few bits of knowledge (albeit verging on the brink of irrelevant) I have acquired in the last recent while:
--feeding bits of buttery toast to a waif-like cat can result in painful results
--vodka meets apple juice meets cinnamon dust does not make for a delicious drink
--days lacing slowly past can actually be a friend, rather than a frusteration
--I am still prone to burning utensils when I cook
--birthdays, and the anticipation of them, is so so very nice.
--Charlotte Gainsbourg is still seductively amazing beyond measure.
--everything is really, truly that much funnier at 2:30 in the morning. chained to responsibilities at work. lying in a haggard booth under a fake sea of stars. waiting waiting waiting to slip home and beneath sheets.
Taking wing,
RB
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