Holiday Read no. 6 _The Dangers of Smoking in Bed_ by Marina Enriquez

'And just like that, the time when we talked to the dead came to an end.' -'Back When We Spoke to the Dead'

I read this over the course of my week away, rereading the ones that resonated, aroused, and taunted on the journey back to England. 

Carefully crafted, messy, rotting. Fecund. Mesmerising. Deeply unsettling, exquisitely tender. I want to gift it, press it into the hands of others who share an understanding of how necessary and tender the underbelly, the shadows, and dark alleys are. Because I often spend time with the dead (they move around the house, sidle up to me in my sleep, tap my shoulder on long journeys. It isn't constant, at the moment, not like it was in New Orleans but when there is a long tenure, it weighs), it was a relief to read of other experiences, fictitious or otherwise.

This first venture abroad since Covidity: The Musical that hasn't involved false cheer, discussions about end-of-life care, or cleaning up after others.  Of the 6 books I brought with me, this one has made me left me feeling the most satisfied, a Cheshire cat with a mouse or bird to feast on.