murakami, haruki - Norwegian wood

did you get in German?" "So-and-so got hurt in the campus riots."
"Great shoes, where did you buy them?" I half-listened, but it felt as
though their comments were coming from the other side of the world.
I sipped my coffee and watched the scene passing by the shop
window. It was a typical university springtime scene as the new year
was getting under way: a haze hanging in the sky, the cherry trees
blooming, the new students (you could tell at a glance) carrying
armloads of new books. I felt myself drifting off a little and thought
about Naoko, unable to return to her studies again this year. A small
glass full of anemones stood by the window.
When the other two went back to their table, Midori and I left to walk
around the neighbourhood. We visited a few second-hand bookshops,
bought some books, went to another café for another cup, played some
pinball at an arcade, and sat on a park bench, talking - or, rather,
Midori talked while I merely grunted in response. When she said she
was thirsty, I ran over to a newsagent's and bought us two Cokes. I
came back to find her scribbling away with her ballpoint pen on some
ruled paper.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Nothing," she said.
"I have to go," she announced at 3.30. "I'm supposed to meet my sister
at the Ginza."
We walked to the subway station and went off in different directions.
As she left, Midori stuffed the piece of paper, now folded in four, into
my pocket. "Read this when you get home," she said. I read it on the
train.
I'm writing this letter to you while you're off buying drinks. This is the
first time in my life I've ever written a letter to somebody sitting next
to me on a bench, but I feel it's the only way I can get through to you.
I mean, you're hardly listening to anything I say. Am I right?
Do you realize you did something terrible to me today? You never
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