shifty_gardener | I became a hero to serve you...and also to find some way of starting a conversation

I just read The Last Unicorn for my fantasy lit decal, and oh my god. The prose is so gentle, for one thing. I'm not usually one for figurative language, but every description felt tangible and simple and completely not what you would expect something to be described as but so, so perfect.

"He was silent, crouched by the road in the rain, drawing his soaked cloak close around his body until he looked like a broken black umbrella. The uncorn waited, feeling the days of her life falling around her with the rain."

"The sun sank into dirty clouds like a stone into the sea, and with about as much chance of rising again, and there was no moon, or any stars."

"A terrible light poured from him like sweat...His horns were as pale as scars."

"...the cave brooded gullet-red, as though his light had rubbed off on the walls and crusted in the cracks and crevices."

"...the murderous smell of it seemed to turn her bones to sand and her blood to rain."

"She was no longer there, and yet her face hovered like a breath in the cold, reeky light."

and the story leaves you feeling mildly heartbroken. Just. oh my god. it was a less trolly version of the once and future king ("when was the last time you illuminated a manuscript" lol), or a very thoughtful/thematic alice in wonderland or a linguistically very restrained A Little Princess.

Sarah, I know you don't have the attention span for books nowadays, but I'm going to shove this on you when I get home for break. It's really meta in the least cracky way possible. Who knows how.

Also I just made chicken livers that were extremely delicious, but I may never know whether it was because they were a) most likely organic b) cooked with green onions or c) seasoned with my hunger.