Sidda can't help herself. She just loves books. Loves the way they feel, the way they smell, loves the black letters marching across the white pages...
Zip it kiddo. Don't ever admit you know a thing about cooking or it'll be used against you later in life.
See, she goes places when she reads. I know all about that. When I'm reading, wherever I am, I'm always somewhere else.
Sometimes I wonder if any of us are cut out for the lives we lead.
There is the truth of history, and there is the truth of what a person remembers. As {she} sat at the edge of {the lake}, memory blossoms floated unbounded, as though breathed, no words spoken. Like birds that fly across national borders, between cou...
