I always woke up very early in Tokyo. Everything was closed, except for a family mart in which a tired man worked. He reminded me of the convenience store woman, of this freedom through constraints. In general, many Japanese people seem like they confuse work with life, but at the same time know that it might be nice to spend more time with their friends.
Whether Haruki Murakami’s hero is ironing a shirt, drinking a cold beer or making a stir fry of beef and sprouts, I feel woven into the mysterious fabric of another world.
The first thing I ever read of his was the short story, “On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning”. I’ve read it many times since. It’s about love, memory, is there a perfect other for you, lost chances, stories within stories. My heart breaks and the little hairs on my arm bristle as the two lovers meant to be together pass each other on a crowded street in Tokyo.