Two Books equals Choice

Sunrise was at 5:47, after my alarm goes off. The sun doesn't come up over the hilltop now. Sunset will be at 8:44. Dusk is purpler earlier. It will be in the high 70s today and Seattle is beautiful in the clear, blue skies.

Damn you, One Bus Away! I don't know why it registers the phantom buses, those buses that it shows are at your stop.....NOW! and then immediately shows it is now a minute, two minutes past your stop with no bus either coming OR going in either direction. I know I should get to my stop 10, 15 minutes before the app says, but that means that, should that bus arrive, I get to my connecting bus 20 minutes before that one leaves and then I get to work way too early. As it is, if I can actually FIND a bus at my stop when I used to catch it, I get to work half an hour earlier than my shift. Granted, it is a bookstore and there is coffee, but it's still work.

The truly unfortunate thing is that if I miss that one bus that puts me at the connector at 8:00, I can either arrive at work late by 15 minutes, or I drive. I have been trying not to drive every day - I have a really old Jeep - and I was so looking forward to the half hour reading time. Today I drive.

Yes, I finally got past last week's doldrums and I am really unhappy that I am not reading on the bus right now. I picked up two books out of the galleys at my desk yesterday and I can't decide which one I should read first, I've started both and both are hard to put down. Ashes, Ashes, by Jo Treggiari, takes place in New York City, just after smallpox has wiped out most of the population and there are now two seasons: wet and drought.

Our hero is 16-year old Lucy, the last of her family, and we meet her as she is trying to get inside a turtle to get to the meat. She is alone, living in a willow hut, and is either dehydrated or trying not to drown in the downpours, when she is treed by feral dogs (one is a terrier, whining at the trunk of the tree), saved by a boy she's never seen before. Sounds good, doesn't it? and that was only the first 25 pages!

Then, I started to read The Mostly True Story of Jack, by Kelly Barnhill, before going to sleep last night and woke up looking for it to read at breakfast. This one is about a boy named Jack whose parents have broken up and he is being dropped at his Aunt and Uncle's house in Iowa until things shake out. Oh, he doesn't want to be there. Home isn't much better, no one really seems to see him or care about him, but it's home. So far, there is a whispered discussion of something unraveling and his aunt and uncle actually care that he is with them. It's the kind of book that has a lot of reveal to do - things will come slowly clear and it compels the reader to keep turning the pages to find out what's next.

I'm taking them both with me and I think I'm edging toward Jack, first.