"What compelled me to move to England in the first place? A more self-possessed person might have explored this question before she brown-boxed the contents of her apartment in Manhattan. Before she sublet the only home she knew in exchange for a rented room that grew dank at night when the garden snails slipped inside to consort beneath her bed.
At twenty-seven, I was not that person. The facts of my life still seemed largely beyond my control. I felt steered (or rather, flung) through the world not by intention or foresight, but by some uncontrollable force (my own subconscious, which I knew as "fate"). The question--Why did I move to England?--hits me only in hindsight, as I sit heartbroken on a homeward-bound plane.
The short answer is easy: I moved to Brighton for love, or at least the possibility of it."
-Koren Zailckas
I have always been a firm believer (foolish, I am) in the fate of certain books falling into my hands at the exact moment I need them to. Fury appeals remarkably to my bleeding heart.
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