MATT PINE

The Mercury Cafe

In the coffee shop, the unbelievably attractive girl has her things spread across two tables. She is wearing orange slacks, a green shirt, and she’s writing an essay. Her things are therefore books opened to important passages. Three men have passed the coffee shop’s windows, each carrying a bouquet. It’s as if they’re searching for her, and they haven’t thought to come inside. Please don’t think the tables are a fortress. Her essay is on the subject of public health. 

Mind’s Eye by Hakan Nesser

Translated from The Swedish into The Fussy Welsh-flavored English by Laurie Thompson.

The paragraph which perfectly embodies the flaws in this otherwise passable novel: 

Tomas Heckel wasn’t supposed to start his shift until ten, but this evening they had a special agreement. If Heckel started at a quarter to nine instead, Ulich would have time to get to the boxing gala where his son was due to take part in a light-heavyweight bout with a black Englishman by the name of Whitecock.

This 90s crime novel was just what the crime doctor ordered for after a stressful move. 

a thought on moving to san francisco (note: this will be trite)

I’ve been out here ten days. Yesterday, I was talking to my building’s super. He’s got an awesome, think accent. It was such a relief! The city feels foreign, and it was nice to have that reflected in speech.

anesthesia epiphany

Please forgive my slow posting as of late. I was already headed down a slope of slacking off, but then I went and destroyed my shoulder (totally awesome graphic photos forthcoming). 

But until I recuperate (or until my evenings are not assisted by hydrocodine), let me share with you this awesome drugged out epiphany. As the anesthesiologist pushed something hot and numbing into the needle taped to the back of my right hand. she said, “and now you should be falling asleep.” And it felt precisely - precisely! - the way it feels to fall asleep while reading. As they put screws into my shoulder, I had these bizarre dreams about how reading up to unconsciousness is quite similar to having your waking life slaughtered with opiates.

At the time, I made some sort of thesis form it….