Liest sich gut, wenn auch stilistisch manches besser ginge. Sehr unterhaltsam.
Klingt doch gutAmidst disillusioned saints hiding in wrestling rings, mothers burnt by glowing halos, and a Baby Nostradamus who sees only blackness, a gang of flower pickers heads off to war, led by a lonely man who cannot help but wet his bed in sadness. Part memoir, part lies, this is a book about the wounds inflicted by first love and sharp objects.
"And I am happy and I am rich and I never die. It doesn't sound like much, but its enough for me."
Zitat von Geronimo Röder