One beautiful April morning, on a narroreet in tokyos fas t girl.

    tell you trut t good-looking. S stand out in any  out of s young, eit be near ty, not even close to a quot;girl,quot; properly speaking. But still, I knoy yards a I see , and my mout.

    Maybe you icular favorite type of girl - one o girls ime imes in a restaurant Ill catcaring at t t table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.

    But no one can insist t  girl correspond to some preconceived type. Muc recall t s beauty. Its weird.

    quot;Yesterday on treet I passed t; I tell someone.

    quot;Yea; ;Good-looking?quot;

    quot;Not really.quot;

    quot;Your favorite type, t;

    quot;I dont kno seem to remember anyt s.quot;

    quot;Strange.quot;

    quot;Yearange.quot;

    quot;So any; ;alk to ;

    quot;Na passed reet.quot;

    S to , and I  to east. Its a really nice April morning.

    isalk to y: just ask  ell  myself, and - o do - explain to ies of fate t o our passing eacreet in iful April morning in 1981. to be crammed full of s, like an antique clock build whe world.

    After talking, ails. it end up in bed.

    Potentiality knocks on t.

    Noance beteen yards.

    should I say?

    quot;Good morning, miss. Do you ttle conversation?quot;

    Ridiculous. Id sound like an insurance salesman.

    quot;Pardon me, but  cleaners in t;

    No, t as ridiculous. Im not carrying any laundry, for one to buy a line like t?