Oxford race

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on the death of one's colleague

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Hav-Oxford

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 Sometimes you hear about a book and you want to read it and it's pretty much like a date, and you really have a crush on them, looking forward everything they will reveal to you, their charm, their wit, their beauty, their kindness, and you may be disappointed once you're there, it turns out you have been imagining things in advance, projecting too much, forgetting reality. And your date is tired, or upset, or distracted by the ex who's suddently appeared in the restaurant next to us or whatever. You date is alive but not necessarily well. But books are not like that, or at least books by authors you like, there will always be some bits you like: the appreciation of one's style, a certain turn of phrase here and there that deviates from it because the author was too young, too old, pissed off that day and so many other things like their ex sitting near them in the cafe where they're working who knows?, but you're rarely disappointed  - or I sincerely hope so. I
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