"Still his father said nothing, his eyes fixed on the outdoor scene like a soldier on guard duty, determined not to miss the next signal flare sent up by the savage tribe on the distant hill. Tengo tried looking out along his father's line of vision but found nothing resembling a flare. The only things out there were the pine trees tinted with the coming sunset."
1Q84, Haruki Murakami, p. 424
A few pages of Murakami a day makes me rather contented as a reader. I am quite liking the fact that this is a thick book with a long, if bizzare (as always), story that will take me a while to finish, such that I am able to always look forward to new developments in the plot, a few pages each time. It's a bit like how sometimes I wish a bus journey will not end so quickly; that the route is longer so that the pleasure of enjoying the cozy journey will be prolonged and not terminate so soon.
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