Love Happens on a Friday

Something I wrote in the new book, attributing my thoughts to somebody else (which is always fun):

We fell in love. And as it is with love, it was nobody’s fault. Love just happens, like a sudden thunderstorm conjuring out of clouds. Love does not consider what is best and when, or accept age or class restriction. It refuses to play by the rules, dances naked on the public square in the smallest hours of the night. Love does not give a damn about balance and appearances and chooses to ignore even the basics of politeness. Love is ruthless, likes to surprise and embarrass, swallows you whole and spits out the bones with a loud burp. What would we live for, without this kind of love?

Comments

[franco b]

this is becoming more and more a great book!