I was reading Norwegian Wood for the third time and lost in it. I was sitting in a small cafe in Canning Town, east London and my third mug of coffee in a row had grown ice cold on the table in front of me.
I did not notice the woman standing next to me until she cleared her throat in an attention grabbing way. It took me a moment to come back to reality.
She was smartly dressed, in her mid 30’s perhaps.
She looked… Displeased. Eyes scrunched almost closed, lips pinched tight.
‘You disgust me,’ she uttered. Then she shook her head, turned away and walked quickly to the door and out onto the street.
I felt like I had been punched in the face. What a thing to say!
I was sure I had never met her before. Was it the book? That seemed unlikely.
Was she mad? Was this her idea of a joke?
Maybe she had mistaken me for someone else.
Or did she know something about me?
But what was there to know? I don’t have many secrets.
I hurriedly knocked back my cold coffee, rushed home and locked my door..
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