Hopper
ran at me, swinging a pipe. He hit me
with his full strength, which did absolutely nothing.
I
picked him up by his arm and suspended him before my snarling face. I truly considered biting him in half. But then I remembered earlier at the party
when he was screaming for the Sex Pistols at the top of his lungs while the
camp ignored him.
You
couldn’t really hate a man who had so much passion for something while everyone
around him was numb with indifference.
(from The Whisper
King by Wil Radcliffe)
8½*/10. The complete review is here.
.
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