Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World

by Haruki Murakami

A huge black net of sleep that had been poised in ambush fell over me. As I drifted off, I thought, do you really expect me to know what’s going on?

It took forever to get by the accident site, but there was still plenty of time before the appointed hour, so I smoked and kept listening to Dylan. Like A Rolling Stone. I began to hum along. We were all getting old. That much was as plain as the falling rain.

“What time is it?” I asked. “Nighttime,” she answered.

Fairness is a concept that holds only in limited situations. Yet we want the concept to extend to everything, in and out of phase. From snails to hardware stores to married life. Maybe no one finds it, or even misses it, but fairness is like love. What is given has nothing to do with what we seek.

All that is left to me is the sound of the snow underfoot.