own, her Sheep

        by MURAKAMI haruki

        translated by Kiki

        t snoarted to fall os of Sapporo in nort began as rain and t o didn’t take long before it o rais 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-miape 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 pletely different. Per ravel agency, gallivanting all over ter in tokyo. But fate led me to e novels ravel agency. A everyday tio shine.

        My friend o, and ures of : o playing    to umn cival; o riding a rocket at t eacure times, oer an 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 t taurant. It arted to rain again.

        “Say, uro Kobe retly?” I asked.

        “Nope,” s’s just too far away.    you?”

        “Me    really o go back.”

        “Yeah.”

        “I imagihe years.”

        e reets of Sapporo for only ten more minutes, quickly running out of to talk about. I returo my el and    baent.

        “Don’t be a straake care of your self.”

        “You too.”

        Suddenly ter made me realize t tomorroed by over 500 kilometers. In a fe streets. e urn to our respective b routines. e iruggle as members of t race.

        Ba my el room I turned on tV and started to co bed    taking my stacked my smoked salmon sand the s.

        A young anding alone i ivore. It ransfixed on    advance or retreat. I felt like I g a Goddard movie.

        “I y se of to,” t local at and , maybe stle nervous. “R toion of only about 7500 people. Nobody famous tle to t.”

        t’s too bad I t.

        “Our main industries are agriculture and dairy farming. Rice used to be our tory. But ret goveral subsidy policies    toables for tskirts of toures    tle, a    t tock tio increase. Over t ticipate furtock produ.“

        I    really describe tiful. S ty, al-framed glasses. Sor. Yet I t secured    feature. And it tio emp feature, keeping    possible ligen minutes in front of t camera, maybe oo could look so ’s .

        “In tury gold dust tle to soon t ’s really quite sad.”

        I popped t bite of my smoked salmon sand do of my beer.

        “toion of to arouly t farming    our young people o escape to tes    to remain are doing t for our town.”

        Sio stare into t    migell ture. So be staring directly at me. taking anotor, I pulled tab and took a big drink.

        town.

        I didn’t rouble imagining oiny train station ops only eigimes a day. A small space er in tation’s ing room. A small sterile circular area for buses to pick up people. A guide map of toers are nearly illegible. A bed of marigolds and a roain asrees. A mangy ired of living. An advertisement for scively big but useless main street. A -ad poster for tory department store selling a variety of miscellaneous stuff. One small travel agency. A farmer’s co-op, a forestry ter and an animal os solitary gray smokestack stig up int left before terse, ty s at ion. Yes, definitely a small b to ing copy:

        “e ributing medication for disiied, please plete t tel room I suddenly experienced a tangible e ace.    t doesn’t fit very    feel fortable. My feet are bound by rope. I sider cutting tc blade, but if I do so, urn? t makes me uneasy. o cut too mu. t’s all I could t. I slip badery. My town, her sheep.

        No o be disied by t neoo, I o get my ser. I o gatanks    t er all er is just around t’s my toinued on tV. “It’s not so iing, but it’s my    a c us. e’ll do wever we    for you.”

        And just like t sV s. I tur off and finis of my beer. I began to sider visiting oer all I probably    around to visiting it. I oo many tside it tio snow. A he darkness.
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