Under my bed, layered in dust and broken dreams of a tidy life, is a cardboard box labeled "Donation." It has sat there for three years. Inside are the books I claimed to hate. The ex-boyfriend’s philosophy tomes. The cookbooks for diets I never started. The novel everyone loved but made me yawn.
The Stain That Stayed Date: Sometime in the rain season Status: Draft ratu buku blogspot
I started reading.
Tonight, I was desperate enough to dig through it. Under my bed, layered in dust and broken
Last night, I found myself in that space again. My TBR pile had shrunk to three sad, unread paperbacks (a betrayal to my title as Ratu Buku, I know). I had finished the last good one—a dog-eared copy of a 1987 Murakami—two hours prior. I was restless. The cookbooks for diets I never started
That is when I remembered the box.