NE YORK MIINING DISAStER

    By MURAKAMI haruki

    translated by Philip Gabriel

    t to save on air, and darkness surrounded ter dripping from the ceiling every five seconds.

    “O.K., everybody, try not to breat ,” an old miner said. o a unnel creaked faintly. In togetraining to he sound of life.

    ted for y began to melt ao feel as if it  ure, in a different far-off world?

    Outside, people o reac was like a scene from a movie.

    A friend of mine  of going to typen years. At a time orm sters or running our to stock up on mineral er or co see if ts are uffs a couple of cans of beer into s, and sets off.  a fifteen-minute walk away.

    If o inclement s gates are locked. s doone statue of a squirrel next to trance, drinks hen heads back home.

    But ime rance fee, ligte, and surveys t of treated ters. Some stare blankly at ted, jumping around in the gale-force winds.

    Some are frigric pressure; oturn vicious.

    My friend makes a point of drinking  beer in front of tiger cage. (Bengal tigers al t violently to storms.) side t of time t t bit disturbed by typare at s like a mermaid on te floor sipping ually felt sorry for him.

    “It’s like being in an elevator rapped inside rangers,” my friend tells me.

    typ from anyone else.  company, managing foreign investments. It’s not one of tter firms, but it does tle apartment and gets a nes on ’s ally six montand. t clones of one anot tell t.

    My friend oed , a black t