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Paper Butterflies |
This book made me cry. For real. Actual
tears people, actual tears. I read it on holiday, alone in my hotel room after
a day skiing. Or rather, I started it on the plane and then finished it in my
hotel room and I had to text my friend and tell him I needed rescuing because
I had a massive sad. When he rang me to ask what on earth I was talking about I
burst into tears, which, well way to go Jo, way to go.
‘What’s it about,’
he asked me when he came to save me and take me for vin chaud, and then ‘Jesus
Christ’ when I told him.
‘What happens in the
end?’
I don’t know,’ I
told him, ‘I’ve got a few percent left to go.’
Then a pause….’is it
not a true story?’
‘No.’
And then he laughed,
because (and this is not the first time this has happened) it's apparently hilarious
that I can get so emotionally attached to things and people that aren’t even real, except of course they
totally are real in my head and I kind of feel like it’s a testament to how
good a book is, if it can move me like that.
