Standing room only again in the metro the other morning. I'm used to it. I pull out my novel.
I feel someone's eyes on me. A middle-aged man, balding, bespectacled, seated in front of me.
He's not staring at me so much as he's leering at my book. Still, unpleasant.
I'm reading The End of the World in Breslau, by Marek Krajewski. (Excerpt.)
The spectacular cover art gracing the English translations of the Eberhard Mock investigations, from Quercus Publishing, is by Andrzej Klimowski.
Here. Take a good, close look.