Reading, for me, is entertainment and an escape from the real world. But it can also inform and stretch the boundaries of the life I live.
“I try to pull a pant leg over my thigh and it sticks just above my knee. Frowning, I stare at my leg. A bulge of muscle is stopping the fabric. I let the pant leg fall and look over my shoulder. Another muscle stands out there.”
This has to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever read in a book.