Arnon Grunberg



Another evening in Húsið -- the other two restaurants opening during the winter appeared to be closed on Sunday night.
I had eaten most of my pizza when I saw the man entering the cafe who had yesterday kissed me on my forehead. I was afraid that he would start another diatribe that would end with declarations of love, but he ignored me. He went straight to a female tourist and he started exactly the same diatribe as the evening before. Even the silences between the sentences were the same.
Was this man an actor? Or did he just have one monologue with which he tried to impress the few tourists that came to his town? In any case I felt slightly disappointed.
I didn't wait till he had kissed the tourist also on her forehead. I have my pride.

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