Saturday

'He and she were thinking about the very same thing: an airplane. The airplane that his heart was making deep in the forest. How big it was, and its shape, and the color of it's paint, and where it was going, and who would board it. They thought about the airplane that was waiting for someone deep in the forest.'

Haruki Murakami, from 'Airplane: Or, How He Talked To Himself As If Reciting Poetry'