少了一隻鼩鼱

I wasn't expecting a tiny book about a shrew to hit this hard, but it genuinely does—I finished it with actual tears in my eyes. The story pulls you right into its underground world and stays with you long after the last page.

It’s barely bigger than my palm, but somehow it packs an emotional wallop that left me sniffling on the train. I picked it up for a quick read and stayed quiet for a full ten minutes after the final page, just thinking about that poor little shrew.

I picked this up expecting something light, but that tiny shrew burrowed straight into my chest and I was crying by page twenty. It's a deceptively small book that packs an enormous emotional weight, and the sadness creeps up on you in the most quiet, unexpected way.