The Lonely Mr. Wind-Up Bird

Home again, I sat on the kitchen table as usual, drinking a beer and listening to music on the radio. It then occurred to me that I wanted to talk to someone – about the weather, about political stupidity; it didn’t matter what. I just wanted to talk to somebody, but I couldn’t think of anyone, no one person I could talk to.

I didn’t even have a cat.

Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle page 371

Sampit, 18 Juli 2016

Wild Child – Reno


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