The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah
In the still of the night, the dim sounds of a saxophone tug at the sadness buried inside my heart…
In the still of the night, the dim sounds of a saxophone tug at the sadness buried inside my heart…
Ugh, this is such painful schmaltz.
Schmaltz is just a few alphabets away from schmuck.
A love triangle with an obvious Mr Wrong isn’t very exciting, is it?
So, going mainstream is going boring? How disappointing.