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The Indefinite Article.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Nineteen-seventy-one was the Year of Spaghetti

Thinking about spaghetti that boils eternally but is never done is a sad, sad thing.

I am cooking spaghetti and I am reminded of a short story written by Haruki Murakami called The Year Of Spaghetti. He has had several spaghettis published in the New Yorker. I have enjoyed them all.


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