Two hands, cold and distant

Like I had written earlier this year:

I have read only one Haruki Murakami's novel - Sputnik Sweetheart - and none of his other famous ones (1, 2, 3).

I hope to fix this soon and have picked up Kafka on the shore, which I hope to read in the next two weeks. I doubt I will be quoting much from the book but here is an image early on in the book that I loved.

I look around, standing stock-still, and take a deep breath. The clock shows three p.m., the two hands cold and distant. They're pretending to be noncommittal, but I know they're not on my side. It's nearly time for me to say good-bye.

How poetic!