murakami, haruki - Norwegian wood

confusion. I felt as if I had been sleeping with my head soaked in
water until my brain swelled up. The clock said 6.15 but I had no idea
if that meant a.m. or p.m., and I couldn't remember what day it was. I
looked out of the window and realized there was no flag on the pole. It
was probably p.m. So, raising that flag served some purpose after all.
"Hey, Watanabe, are you free now?" Midori asked.
"I don't know, what day is it?"
"Friday."
"Morning or evening?"
"Evening, of course! You're so weird! Let's see, it's, uh, 6.18 p.m."
So it was p.m. after all! That's right, I had been stretched out on my
bed reading a book when I dozed off. Friday. My head started
working. I didn't have to go to the record shop on Friday nights.
"Yeah, I'm free. Where are you?"
"Ueno Station. Why don't you meet me in Shinjuku? I'll leave now."
We set a time and place and hung up.
When I got to DUG, Midori was sitting at the far end of the counter
with a drink. She wore a man's wrinkled, white balmacaan coat, a thin
yellow jumper, blue jeans, and two bracelets on one wrist.
"What're you drinking?" I asked.
"Tom Collins."
I ordered a whisky and soda, then realized there was a big suitcase by
Midori's feet.
I went away," she said. "Just got back."
"Where'd you go?"
"South to Nara and north to Aomori."
"On the same trip?!"
"Don't be stupid. I may be strange, but I can't go north and south at the
same time. I went to Nara with my boyfriend, and then took off to
Aomori alone."
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