For the forty-second book, I read How To Talk To Girls At Parties, a short story by Neil Gaiman, and if you want to give me grief for choosing something short and light after the previous book, you can shut right the hell up right away. Book mourning is a real thing, and one day you will understand and stop judging.
I, for one, felt like I had missed the beginning and end of a book. In all likelihood I need to read it over again, when my head is slightly less wonky, and I’m able to dive into the slightly psychedelic imagery and narrative that Gaiman sometimes lays down. I’m not even sure how to describe it. It’s only 11 pages. Go read.
I gave it 4 out of 5 stars.