own, her Sheep

    by MURAKAMI haruki

    translated by Kiki

    t snoarted to fall on treets of Sapporo in nort began as rain and t co sno didn’t take long before it o rain. reets of Sapporo sno t romantic. It’s about as ive. It is Friday October 23.

    tokyo on a 747 from Narita airport, I -s. It started to snoo my 90-minute tape on my walkman.

    “t sounds about par for to me. “e generally get t sno no turns cold.”

    “It gets really cold, doesn’t it?”

    “No kidding. It gets really, really, cold.”

    e gre neigern Japan. Our ed by about 50 meters. e attended botoget on scrips and double dates  so drunk t  of ts doors popped open. After graduating from tended different colleges: I  to tokyo okyo, and my friend married a classmate of y of Otaru in ’s just t. e tered like seeds in the wind.

    If tended college in tokyo and if I o college in  urned out completely different. Per ravel agency, gallivanting all over ter in tokyo. But fate led me to e novels ravel agency. And yet everyday tinues to shine.

    My friend o, and ures of : o playing  to umn cival; o riding a rocket at t eacure times, one after anoturning to him. I picked up my beer and grabbed some icy “ruibe”, a hokkaido delicacy.

    “By the way, how is P doing?” he asked me.

    “Pretty good,” I ans to reet.  divorced and is noh a young woman.”

    “ about Q?”

    “ing some just terrible copy.”

    “t doesn’t surprise me..”

    Etc. Etc.

    e paid for