The rhythm is fucking grating. I need this author to PUT DOWN THE COMMAS. I mean look at this; “Francis Beady, a stationer, was gone already, buried in quicklime a week ago, but the wife, Margaret, ignored grief with an iron will.” It’s a slog to read, esp because the prose is overly flowery which makes it extra frustrating. I’m already being hypnotized by how repetitive the prose is and I also gotta hear
— May 25, 2026 06:35PM
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