A dark day for dark coffee?
I thought the sun was going to shine today. I saw the flowers in bright colors and wondered if I'd need to water them. Then the skies watered, while smoke covered Paris, and gargoyles looked on; and I cried. Notre Dame is a beautiful cathedral, and its structure still stands, they say. But a church is more than its roofless walls and broken glass. And a building it more than picture postcards with stamps. A magically beautiful place is changed by a horrifying beauty of flames. And a new beauty will arise to fill the old, or so they say. Which has nothing at all to do with writing book reviews though it does make anything so trivial seem even more so, while my fingers ache to click on that internet page with "breaking news" instead of typing words. And the hours go by. Perhaps it's remotely fitting that I'm reviewing books built on magic, telling of worlds where magic's power, like fire's, changes everything. Or perhaps that's a stretch. Still, time
