All the day’s chores done, I lie on the sofa in our living room, with my feet up, watching TV with the OH.
Suddenly, I hear a voice. It is the voice of a tough-as-bricks lady, who takes nonsense from no one.
‘Saumensch,’ it tells me.
I jump.
‘Saumensch’ – there’s that voice again. This time, I realise the voice is inside me, in my head. Rosa Hubermann.
I relax immediately and smile.
The OH asks what is wrong with me.
‘This is what happens when a book gets under your skin, creeps up your veins, and crawls into your brain,’ I tell him.
He gives me the oh-that-dotty-wife-of-mine expression.
‘You should read The Book Thief, too. It will crawl into your brain, too,’ I tell him.
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This is non-fiction, starring the OH and me. For those of you who did not get the reference, please click on the link in the post.
The Girl Next Door 