Excerpts from
The Liar
By Martin A. Hansen
THIRTEENTH of March. It is foggy.
I have a feeling I want to tell you something, Nathanael. Nothing very much: only I must talk to someone for a while.
It is the thirteenth of March, Nathanael, and Friday.
There is fog outside, and although still early afternoon, it is so dark in my room that I can hardly see what I am writing. But then, what I write is of little importance.
Thirteenth of March. Fog.
We have had fog before, while the ice has surrounded the island, but not this mild, wet fog, Nathanael. I was up before dawn this morning, and discovered that fog had set in over the island during the night. The trees in the garden loom coal-black, but I can only faintly discern my spruce trees at the bottom of the garden.
Can it really be spring? Touch wood!
If it is spring, there´s going to be unrest in the hearts of the people on Sandö, and that is what I am afraid of, Nathanael.
Martin A. Hansen: The Liar
Quartet Books 1986
Translated by John Jepson Egglishaw
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