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It took another hour to find someone willing to take him as far as Fujigawa. The trucker was a beefy man in his mid-forties, with arms like logs and a jutting belly, who was hauling fresh fish in a refrigerated truck.
“I hope you don’t mind the fish smell,” the driver said.
“Fish are one of Nakata’s favorites,” Nakata replied.
The driver laughed. “You’re a strange one, aren’t you.”
“People tell me that sometimes.”
“I happen to like the strange ones,” the driver said. “People who look normal and live a normal life — they’re the ones you have to watch out for.”
“Is that so?”
“Believe me, that’s how it goes. In my opinion, anyway.”
“Nakata doesn’t have many opinions. Though I do like eel.”
— Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakami.
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