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Dinner conversation of the absurd II

Last night as we were enjoying one of those ridiculously delicious meals that EPI and I enjoy on a regular basis* we had a conversation about the latest Paul Auster novel, which EPI gave me for Christmas and which he is now reading. First.

EPI: I don’t know about that opening line, though: “I was looking for a quiet place to die. Someone recommended Brooklyn …” – it’s so cliché. It sounds like he’s taken too many creative writing classes.

YT: I know. It’s pretentious. [Pause] You have sauce on your chin.

EPI: “He had sauce on his chin.” Think how much more interesting that would be for an opening line.

YT: True.

EPI: “He had sauce on his chin. He will not appear in this story again.” Think if the whole book was like that.

YT: Yeah, all different characters who passed through in one sentence and then weren’t mentioned in the whole book again… “A woman ran for the bus, her scarf flying behind her. She caught the bus and will not be mentioned in this story again.”

EPI: Totally. Three hundred pages of it. Very avant-garde. Everyone would go on about what an original concept it was.

YT: Sauceman.

EPI: It would get made into a movie …

YT: In three parts. Sauceman I, II and III.

EPI: Awesome. We should totally write that book.

AND SO, WHILE WE WERE DELVING INTO THE PROFOUNDNESS OF IT ALL
Records were being set in temperatures all over Niceland. I kid you not! Yesterday we had highs of 16-point-something °C in lovely Stykkishólmur, which is a record high in April in Niceland. Today we’re set for yet another record, they say. Trouble is, it’s been exceedingly windy, which kind of cools things down a bit, not to mention makes everything very sandy and dusty. Yesterday it was all misty and humid – something we hardly ever experience in Niceland – and you could barely see the mountains on account of the mist and the sand dust being whipped up. Right now we’re looking at 14°C [57F] and the sun came up at 5.08 this morning and is due to go down at 9.44 this evening.

* By virtue of EPI being the most superexcellent cook ever conceived. By anyone. Anywhere.

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