In this continuing little old lady mode, I decide to give the evening a Japanese theme - just for some way of organising the sights and sounds and moments.
While in the bath I read the following- in which a Russian, known, for literal reasons, as Manskinner Boris, says this to a Japanese lieutenant:
"I tell you Lieutenant, there is only one way to survive here. And that is not to imagine anything... I certainly never use mine. My job is to make others use their imaginations. That's my bread and butter. Make sure you keep that in mind. As long as you are in here, at least, picture my face if you ever start to imagine something, and say to yourself, 'No, don't do that. imagining things can be fatal.' These are my golden words of advice to you, Leave the imagining to someone else."
Now they tell me..
It's enough to make a girl stop reading and start thinking. And then what if she starts imagining something then? Will she suddenly meet her Boris Manskinner? But let's not go THERE.
Does this happen to you that when you are reading a book, it sort of becomes like your personal I Ching. That every second page seems to contain some paragraph that holds a particular, resonating, resounding message for your life as it is then. I suppose that's the sort of dangerous tendency the paragraph's warning me about. Conundrums wherever you turn. The rose scented bubbles cannot be trusted for very long.