I got on a train that did not stop at my small town, accidently in the quiet zone, and I sat next to two business men, who would not shut up because they are colleagues and not friends and so can’t allow a moments quiet in case they end up with an awkward silence that lasts for the rest of their working lives.
Mostly I could block them out and continue reading Moon Palace, but occassionally a word would break through “google” “modest income” “elite” and I couldn’t read any more.
” I could feel my eyes making contact with the words on the page, but no meanings rose up to me anymore…The black marks seemed wholly bewildering…”
Paul Auster, Moon Palace
was one of the things I was having trouble reading.
How literary.
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