Arnon Grunberg



Last night I had drinks with a friend and his wife.
“Kennedy was killed by the Russians,” my friend said.
I nodded.
“You should write a novel about it,” he said. “I have a title for you ‘Made in Russia’. That’s a brilliant title, because nothing is made in Russia.” We both laughed.
We drank champagne and we ate Gruyère.
It was an uproarious evening.