A review by deadly_nightshade_
Tomato Girl by Jayne Pupek
5.0
Jayne's writing haunts me.
She's alive.She has to be. Her words sting like lemon juice on a fresh scrape.
Her thoughts bring me to realize why man designated the heart and not the brain as the body's chief container of emotion. Reading them, I clasp my hands over the space just to the lower left of my esophagus.
Only someone living can evoke such emotion.
The sentences touch me. I feel them. I hold my breath at times. Her prose asphyxiates me.
Reading this book, I'm eleven again. My name is Ellie, and I'm suffering. Suffering from an illness God gave me, and only God can take away. That illness is called Family.
Even after the illness is gone, the scars will remain. Scars that may never heal.
Mrs. Pupek,
Thank you. You are my inspiration.
Your words fossilized the difficulties
in one fictional girl's life. They
revealed not just the beauty, but also the
filth and the depravity so prevalent on
Earth today. Your poetry felt as delicate as
the condition of any child on the verge of adolescence.
You managed to place tenuous love in a vacuum without
causing it to splinter and divide endlessly, without
allowing it to recover to a state of absolute nothingness.
She's alive.She has to be. Her words sting like lemon juice on a fresh scrape.
Her thoughts bring me to realize why man designated the heart and not the brain as the body's chief container of emotion. Reading them, I clasp my hands over the space just to the lower left of my esophagus.
Only someone living can evoke such emotion.
The sentences touch me. I feel them. I hold my breath at times. Her prose asphyxiates me.
Reading this book, I'm eleven again. My name is Ellie, and I'm suffering. Suffering from an illness God gave me, and only God can take away. That illness is called Family.
Even after the illness is gone, the scars will remain. Scars that may never heal.
Mrs. Pupek,
Thank you. You are my inspiration.
Your words fossilized the difficulties
in one fictional girl's life. They
revealed not just the beauty, but also the
filth and the depravity so prevalent on
Earth today. Your poetry felt as delicate as
the condition of any child on the verge of adolescence.
You managed to place tenuous love in a vacuum without
causing it to splinter and divide endlessly, without
allowing it to recover to a state of absolute nothingness.