In Station Eleven, a famous, aging actor dies during a production of King Lear and the world ends. Later, a troupe of musicians and actors travel through the remnants of the Midwest, moving from settlement to settlement performing Shakespeare. It is a weird, completely implausible story — to enjoy it fully you have to be willing to suspend your disbelief about it and just go with the weirdness.
I read this when it came out and enjoyed the TV adaptation of it earlier this year. After a difficult month, picking this back up from my shelf and losing myself in the author’s beautiful prose and strange world was a really nice way to wind down.