8:28 PM Thursday one of October’s nights I finished reading this novel.
I had no intention in writing a review really but I felt like writing something about it I can remember in a year or more. I bought this novel by chance, I went off college tried, exhausted and bored of my projects, studies and everything mostly, decided to have a walk. I put my headphones and walked without caring about anything or anyone around me, I was walking on my own world literary. There was an old man who sells old used books with a very lovely smell!
The moment I saw it, my heart started beating so hard, I could focus on the playing list of my songs, I glanced at that book my eyes were full of excitement. It was enchanting. I had been attracted by a book!
I passed through a lot of struggles while reading this novel, it means something to me because it was like a close friend to me. It was that kind of activity I used to do when I want to escape form everything and everyone.
“He wanted trees, grass, hedges, streams, rivers, country lanes. That’s what he was leaving a day earlier for, to dawdle, to go off beaten track. In Paris, too he was a wanderer, but without the freedom of narrow, deserted roads, these gravel roads which still exist and which he loved to drive with a powerful car raising a cloud of yellow dust behind it. He would stop, get out, stuff off again, accelerate, barking suddenly with a viciousness that these country roads allowed.”
It was a good friend, but not as good as I excepted.
Thanks to the author tho.