A short story

Murakami Haruki is a writer that I admire greatly. He has a knack for grasping the reader's attention, and even though I have only read his Norwegian Wood in its original Japanese, and several other works in their English versions, I find that despite the translations, his messages are conveyed, albeit being too strange for my simple mind to comprehend sometimes.

Recently, I started reading a collection of his short stories, and as usual, I found it hard to put the book down once I got started. There was even a story which struck a chord in my heart. It was quite scary, actually, even though it was not a horror story at all. However, somehow after reading that story, I had to close the book and look out the window at the moving scenery (I was on a train heading towards school) in order to stop the shivering. I won't tell you which book or which story it was, suffice it to say that I empathised with the characters in that story.

Sometimes, I toy with the idea of writing a short story myself, but somehow, writing prose is different fom writing poetry. Still, someday I will get down to it and pen a short story. When the wind of inspiration blows into that crimson chamber called my heart, maybe.