Jun 27, 2007

White Oleander

Time flies when you're having fun, so goes the old addage. Especially if that fun is in the form of a book by Janet Fitch. I am literally unable to put it down ever since I bought it three days ago. The one hour wait I endure almost daily melts away like butter left irresponsibly in the hot sun. When the book is in front of me, I am a prisoner on death row savouring her precious hour-a-day in the yard. I want to be the beauty that Ingrid Magnussen flaunts so nonchalantly. I want to be Astrid's serene white innocence. I want to be Ron's tales thrown precariously to his audience. I want to be Olivia's deathly grip on Life. I want to step into the pages and flutter in the wind. I want to leave Here and join them There.

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