On one hand, Neil Gaiman has trod this road before: that the line between our world and another world is thin, and sometimes we accidentally break through or see something we weren't supposed to.  On the other, this is so lyrical and poetic and absorbing that I didn't care.  It was such an aching book, so bittersweet, that I kept on thinking about it for days.The unnamed narrator attends his father's funeral.  Afterwards, he returns to see the home where he grew up.  He wanders down the lane, encounters someone he remembers, and spends his afternoon remembering long-forgotten, and re-forgotten, events from his childhood.  As a small boy, he saw between the worlds and unwittingly became the carrier for an evil force.  The three women who lived at the end of the lane guarded against it, and fought it as it tried to gain a foothold, and sacrificed so that it would lose its foothold.  The narrator remembers the events, as well as his deep sense of loss about the sacrifice.The review is short, as is the book.  I might use this to introduce others to Neil Gaiman instead ofStardust. 

Question: How about word?
Answer: world is thin