I went two whole weeks without reading a book. I read articles. Essays. A short story or two. But no books. I felt odd, out of sorts, a stranger in my own body. It's nice to be back on the wagon again with Remainder. Last night, I had one of those reader-writer connection moments -- those moments that make all of reading worthwhile, where you feel you have understood the writer and the writer has understood you -- and I made an audible noise. A gasping sound. Here's the bit (the precise moment of reader-writer connection is in italics):
"I walked for a third time to my flat, still using the same route, picked up my coat and wallet, and had made it to beside a tyre shop halfway between the siege zone and the phone box when I realized I'd left the piece of paper with the flight number on it in my kitchen.
I turned back again, but stopped immediately as it occurred to me that perhaps I didn't need the information: I could just look at the arrivals board and see which flight was coming from Harare. There wouldn't be more than one at any given time. I turned back out and was about to start walking onwards when it struck me that I didn't know which terminal to go to. I would have to go back to get the details after all. But before I'd taken a single step towards my flat I remembered that they have lists posted up in tube compartments on the Piccadilly Line, telling you which terminal to go to for each airline. I turned round yet again. Two men who'd walked out of a cafe next to the tyre shop were looking at me. I realized that I was jerking back and forth like paused video images do on low-quality machines. It must have looked strange. I felt self-conscious, embarrassed. I made a decision to go and pick the flight details up after all, but remained standing on the pavement for a few more seconds while I pretended to weigh up several options and then come to an informed decision. I even brought my finger into it, the index finger of my right hand. It was a performance for the two men watching me, to make my movements come across as more authentic."
Tom McCarthy, I cannot tell you (nor would I really wish to) how many times I've done this very thing. I'm not proud of it, but I'm certainly glad to know I'm not the only one.
