I'd hoped to write my final review of The Book Thief today, but (and this will sound incredibly wimpy) I'm just too sick. My body is aching. My stomach is churning. My head is pounding. I haven't slept in two days. I can barely keep my eyes open. So, as soon as I can, I'm going home to bed.
It's just not a day for critical thinking. (See? Pretty wimpy, huh? And also a bit whiny.)
So, I'll post my final review of The Book Thief next friday, and for now, I'll leave you with this link to today's Writer's Almanac, which showcases a poem called "Autopsy in the Form of an Elegy" by John Stone. It's simple, sweet, tragic, and wonderful.