It was the sort of ending that catches in your gut and eats away there like an ulcer until you've reinstated some semblance of equilibrium. For weeks I was consumed with something akin to thoughtful despair. I would find myself continuing the adventures in my mind, and I forsook schoolwork entirely.
A little dramatic maybe, but I tend to develop a psychological dependence on the books I read, especially the long ones. LotR had been my waking reality for something like six days. It was followed by this excruciating withdrawal period during which I tore to the nearest bookstore in a frantic search for anything with Tolkien's name on it. [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]
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"'You," he said, "tell her all. What good came to you? Do you rejoice that Maleldil became a man? Tell her of your joys, and of what profit you had when you made Maleldil and death acquainted.'" -Perelandra, by C.S. Lewis
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