"This is my life: The alarm goes off at five-thirty with the murmuring of a public-radio announcer, telling me that there has been a coup in Chad, a tornado in Texas. My husband stirs briefly next to me, turns over, blinks, and falls back to sleep for another hour. My robe lies at the foot of the bed, printed cotton in the summer, tufted chenille for the cold. The coffeemaker comes on in the kitchen below as I leave the bathroom, go downstairs in bare feet, pause to put away the boots left splayed in the downstairs back hallway and to lift the newspaper from the back step. The umber quarry tiles in the kitchen were a bad choice; they are always cold. I let the dog out of her kennel and put a cup of kibble in her bowl. I hate the early mornings, the suspended animation of the world outside, the veil of black and then the oppressive gray of the horizon along the hills outside the French doors. But it is the only time I can rest without sleeping, think without deciding, speak and hear my own voice. It is the only time I can be alone. Slightly less than an hour each weekday when no one makes demands."Every Last One
by Anna Quindlen
I read the first half of this book on our flight home last Saturday, but haven't been able to pick it up since. The characters are all very real, and somehow familiar, to me. From reading reviews, I know something very horrible and violent will occur soon, possibly within pages of my stopping point, and I will need to read the rest of the book in a single sitting - with plenty of tissues nearby. That will hopefully happen later today or tomorrow.
On a totally unrelated note... Why are UK covers always so much more appealing than their US counterparts? I would much rather be reading this edition.
Tuesday Intros is hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea.