Book. Such a little poke of a word. A thing with pages and words, stitched, stapled or glued. A cover you shouldn’t judge by and a spine that must be broken. ISBN and three-for-two at Borders. But inside, in the black and white, you’ll find all the shades of grey, the nuance and the flex. There are mountains and fractured souls; living and dancing and fucking; a good one takes any filthy mortal and makes them believe that there’s glory in this world. Turn over a new leaf and prepare to leave your mundane behind.