I bought this book because it was written by my neighbour. I'd been meaning to have a look, but you know how it can be. You don't always get around to things like that. I don't actually remember buying it, but it has a store sticker on it in pounds, so I must have bought it in Britain, and maybe its being so out of context made me notice it more and finally buy it. That, and you always need something to read on the road. Whatever the case, I bought it while traveling, my neighbour wrote it and its name comes from a street in my neighbourhood, Rusholme Road. All this is to say, that my meeting with this book was fraught with tiny dramas not really relating to the story it told, but none of them detracted a bit from its subtle glory. She finds joy in such small places that her characters and their lives become radiant with small beauties, even as they creak and bend under their outrageous afflictions. This book made me happy. It makes me happy just thinking about it; that there are people somewhere who have found a way in a hard world through dignity and kindness.
I think I'm not ready to let this one go yet. I just love these guys.
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