Whenever you read Dahl, it feels like you're entering and after a few minutes, find yourself dancing in a pretty field. And then, he plants bombs out of nowhere but you don't always know where they were or where they began because they are in a shape and feel of a strawberry.

(Only ways to reassure your experience are you return to the already bombed field and retrace, eat the strawberries and then ***** or binge, and/or leave in shocking cold silence or in idle confusion.)