Perhaps it was the lonely little bear on the cover, harassed unknowingly by the grandiose of solitude in that cold, cold forest. Perhaps it was the title, a word that isn't actually a legitimate word, but a bastard child that is so comprehensible. Perhaps it was both. Either way, I read this little book when I was far away from home, and it helped me cope with being homesick like a hot shower that thaws when you are frozen with feels-- first numb, then burning, then never wanting to let go of that warmth. Even if you aren't homesick, you can still explore this short anthology's ideas of what "home" really is. This definition is something you truly pay no mind to, until it incapacitates you. Therefore, read this.

TLDR: Read it. For the lonely bear that is never mentioned in the anthology by word, but is reflected within some deep corner of you by meaning.
emotional hopeful reflective medium-paced