The Girl on the Train is about an alcoholic divorcee who rides a train everyday from her rented bedroom to London to pretend that she's still employed and to stalk a couple living in a house beside the tracks for some pitiful reason of giving them an imaginary, but romantic background.
I like psychological thrillers. There's something thrilling and forbidden in being inside one's head, sort of like inhabiting another body, which in itself defies all laws of physics. In reading this book, at least I get to escape with the author's permission and without the hassle of physically losing myself.
Thirty-six year-old, welder, and Vietnam veteran, Llewelyn Moss, gives advice on luck: If there is one thing on this planet that you don't look like it's a bunch of good luck walkin around.