A Twinge At The Edge Of Her

... For Home Is A Magnet That Lures Back Even Its Most Abstracted Children.

Time Had A Way Of Moulding People Into Shapes They Themselves No Longer Recognised.

But History Is A Faithless Teller Whose Cruel Recourse To Hindsight Makes Fools Of Its Actors.

It Was The Sibling Thing, I Suppose. I Was Fascinated By The Intricate Tangle Of Love And Duty And Resentment That Tied Them Together. The Glances They Exchanged; The Complicated Balance Of Power Established Over Decades; The Games I Would Never Play With Rules I Would Never Fully Understand. And Perhaps That Was Key: They Were Such A Natural Group That They Made Me Feel Remarkably Singular By Comparison. To Watch Them Together Was To Know Strongly, Painfully, All That I'd Been Missing.

After All, It's The Librarian's Sworn Purpose To Bring Books Together With Their One True Reader.