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I finally finished "The Dark is Rising," by Susan Cooper. I completed the last ten pages laying in our bed at home, Josie passed out next to me after working an overnight.

There are some very nice passages in "The Dark is Rising," and I'm tempted to go out and get the next one in the sequence, or the first novel, which I haven't read--"Over Sea, Under Stone." It's quite a lyrical little book, and devoid of those "bunch of battle sequences" that are the things that I typically hate most about fantasy (right after purple prose). Battles are for little boys, frankly, and I much prefer a sequence that offers up a series of puzzles to be unlocked, as well as an enchanting atmosphere, such as the rural atmosphere by the Thames that one enters in this book.

There's one passage at the end that really struck me...

"They walked as old friends walked, without often speaking, sharing the kind of silence that is not so much silence as a kind of still communication."

And I sighed and thought, that's really what I'm looking for, when it's all said and done.

Desi, my dear, I'm thinking of you this week. You are in my thoughts constantly.

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