There are a million other things I should be doing with my time...cleaning my house, riding my motorcycle, cooking my family dinner, talking to my Mother on the phone. But I can't. I just....can't. There are too many good books to read.
I don't like short stories. I know this. Yet I keep buying them because sometimes....God, sometimes I find something stellar.
And this? This had the potential to be the kind of story I could sink into. The kind of story that could have wrapped me in emotion and cradled me to its breast. It could have been fucking spectacular.