As the title suggests, this is another post about the book. The book written by Sandra Cisneros, had a childish element but somehow haunting at the same time. The book told a story from the perspective of a young girl, but the way she described about others so innocently struck me. She looked at life with naive eyes, her friend danced around, waiting for someone, her cousin, her brother, each story has its own meaning, some funny, some hinted the sadness. I have never thought such a simplistic style of writing can bring untold emotions hindered behind it.
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