murakami, haruki - Norwegian wood

truly concerned for her friend. "What a shock it must have been for
her. Don't you think it's terrible?"
"I really can't say," I answered. "You ought to have a good talk with
your boyfriend. Then it's a question of whether you forgive him or
not."
"Nobody knows how I feel," spat out the little one, still tearing grass.
A flock of crows appeared from the west and sailed over a big
department store. It was daylight now. The time for the train to
Nagano was approaching, so we gave what was left of the sake to a
homeless guy downstairs at the west exit, bought platform tickets and
went in to see the big girl off. After the train pulled out of sight, the
small girl and I somehow ended up going to a nearby hotel. Neither of
us was particularly dying to sleep with the other, but it seemed
necessary to bring things to a close.
I undressed first and sat in the bath drinking beer with a vengeance.
She got in with me and did the same, the two of us stretched out and
guzzling beer in silence. We couldn't seem to get drunk, though, and
neither of us was sleepy. Her skin was very fair and smooth, and she
had beautiful legs. I complimented her on her legs, but her "Thanks"
was little more than a grunt.
Once we were in bed, though, she was like a different person. She
responded to the slightest touch of my hands, writhing and moaning.
When I went inside her, she dug her nails into my back, and as her
orgasm approached she called out another man's name exactly 16
times. I concentrated on counting them as a way to delay my own
orgasm. Then the two of us fell asleep.
She was gone when I woke at 12.30. I found no note of any kind. One
side of my head felt strangely heavy from having drunk at an odd
hour. I took a shower to wake myself, shaved and sat in a chair, naked,
drinking a bottle of juice from the fridge and reviewing in order the
events of the night before. Each scene felt unreal and strangely distant,
as though I were viewing it through two or three layers of glass, but
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