a poor aunt's story.

Two or three chunks of cloud, white and tiny in a distant corner of the sky, were like punctuation marks placed with exceptional care. Unobstructed, the light of the sun poured down on the world. In this kingdom of July, even a crumpled silver sphere of a chocolate wrapper discarded on the lawn gave off a proud sparkle, like a crystal at the bottom of a lake. If you stared at the scene for long enough, you could see that the sunlight was enfolding yet another kind of light, like one Chinese box inside another. The inner light seemed to be made up of countless grains of pollen - grains that hung in the sky, almost motionless, until finally they drifted down to the surface of the earth.

the first few lines from A poor aunt's story by Haruki murakami.a story about an author who tries to write a story about a subject of which he knows nothing, poor aunts, and is cursed for his presumption with a phantasmal poor aunt who clings to his back, a fate so awful that no one wants to know him.
so utterly captivating. if only i could dive in and explore his extraordinary mind. he has such a unique perspective on life and he transforms his thoughts into beautiful literature.it took me sometime to really understand the story but thats the wonder of his works,it messes with the mind, it leaves u wondering.
im half way through Blind willow Sleeping woman and i finally got the Harboiled-wonderland And the end of the world book from anrian. another mind boggling book by Haruki murakami that will create endless spiraling thoughts and questions about life.

but its a hot sunday afternoon and all i want right now is ice cream.