...she interrupted him with a sympathetic but firm smile: "That's hardly relevant now and, besides, my time is not like this piece of chewing-gum." Muriel was completely taken aback (as well as somewhat in awe of this attractive, elegant, educated woman, who was, of course, very well dressed), because there was no chewing-gum in sight, not even an empty packet on the desk or the merest whiff of mint or strawberry. True, the office was so pleasant and so highly perfumed that no other odour could possibly have survived, and at first, Muriel felt as if he were floating helplessly in the air, drunk or even drugged.
-Javier Marías, Thus Bad Begins
This year I have managed to dodge any loud build up to this day. I find myself left typing at a kitchen table with the periodic spattering sound of a hanging plant that is dripping excess water onto a lovingly placed towel on the floor. Things have been busy and warm as of late, and I have about twenty minutes before the whirl begins again: I am steam and eucalyptus and ready for all of it.
I am thinking of you.
Even in the most official and uniformed sense: How could I not?
It isn't often that the mirror reflects back the eyes of another, and it is these types of intricacies that are no longer something I would wish to rid myself of.
Be well; be loved,
k.
(excerpt from the new Marías book. English version released November 2016. We shall see. This British spelling of things always trips me up, but admittedly charms me.)
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