A record of where time has been lost, spent, or restructured.
When words put their hands on my face, force me to look at them, inject their intensity into my eyes, my veins, and leave me exhausted when I look away, I know that the reading experience was essential, important, real. That happened to me repeatedly as I read this book. I ended loving the characters, or wanting to love the characters despite their unlovability. Surely I will lie awake and imagine the could-of-beens in their lives, even though Kennedy's characters accepted their fates, willingly or not.