"She waited on tables as usual that day, her twentieth birthday"
Coming in at under 50 pages, this short story released to
celebrate Murakami’s 70th birthday, is the exact opposite of the
massive Killing Commendatore,
recently released by the author. A sliver of a thing perhaps and yet a
delightful little read. I pre-ordered this one not realising just how little
the book would be – it easily fits in my mail slot. Apparently it was
previously released as part of an anthology of short stories in 2004.
I'm going to be completely honest here. Of the 48 or so pages, I had to re-read the final few to consolidate my perceptions of what actually happened. That is not to say it isn't good, rather it is, I think, intentionally obtuse.
5 out of 5 spit when they blow out the candles... but don't tell.
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