My Dear Elinor, You Were

The Fairy's Dress Rustled As She Turned. Human Women Dressed Like Flowers, Layers Of Petals Around A Mortal, Rotting Core.

It's The Same In Real Life: Notorious Murderers Get Off Scot-free And Live Happily All Their Lives, While Good People Die - Sometimes The Very Best People. That's The Way Of The World.

We All Know What Fun It Can Be To Get Right Into A Book And Live There For A While, But Falling Out Of A Story And Suddenly Finding Yourself In This World Doesn't Seem To Be Much Fun At All.

Isn't It Odd How Much Fatter A Book Gets When You've Read It Several Times?" Mo Had Said..."as If Something Were Left Between The Pages Every Time You Read It. Feelings, Thoughts, Sounds, Smells...and Then, When You Look At The Book Again Many Years Later, You Find Yourself There, Too, A Slightly Younger Self, Slightly Different, As If The Book Had Preserved You Like A Pressed Flower...both Strange And Familiar.

Sometimes It's A Good Thing We Don't Remember Things Half As Well As Books Do.