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(4) Exemplary crimes
By Max Aub
Hi there, it’s a little late for breakfast, here in Japan, but it’s Sunday, after all. By the way, what do you drink for breakfast? Tea, coffee, cappuccino, whisky and soda?
So here’s another excellent murder from Max Aub’s blood-drenched pen.
PS These pieces are my personal translations of Exemplary Crimes, a book published by Spanish author Max Aub in 1957, and are usually reserved for my paid subscribers, closest collaborators and most loyal readers. If you like this episode and want to read more, please consider switching to a paid subscription. It’s like buying me one coffee (OOPS!) a month.
He began to stir the latte with the spoon. The liquid reached to the brim, raised by the violent action of the aluminum utensil.
The glass was ordinary, the bar cheap. The dull spoon worn by use.
You could hear the sound of metal against the glass. Tin, tin, tin, tin. The latte went round and round with a whirlpool in the middle. A maelstrom.
I was sitting in front of him, the bar was crowded. The man kept stirring, round and round, motionless, smiling and looking at me. Something was turning inside me. I looked at him in such a way that he felt obliged to justify himself.
- The sugar hasn't dissolved yet.
To prove it to me, he tapped the bottom of the glass. He immediately resumed mixing methodically with renewed energy.
He went round and round, never stopping, and the sound of the teaspoon on the edge of the glass. Tan, tan, tan. Again and again, without ceasing, eternally. He went round and round and round and round.
He looked at me smiling. Then I drew my pistol and fired.
Do you think the guy deserved it? And what about you? Have you ever felt like killing someone?
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