In the spring of her twenty-second year, Sumire fell in love for the first time of her life. An intense love, a veritable tornado sweeping across the plains- flattening everything in its path, tossing things up into the air, ripping them to shreds, crushing them to bits. The tornados intensity doesnt abate for a seconds it blasts across the ocean, laying waste to Angkor Wat, incinerating an Indian jungle, tigers and all, transforming itself into a Persian desert sandstorm, burying an exotic fortress city under a sea of sand. In short, a love of truly monumental proportions. The person she fell in love with happened to be seventeen years older than Sumire. And was married. And, I should add, was a woman. - The opening lines of Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami.
Posted on: Tue, 19 Nov 2013 07:14:22 +0000
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