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?

    Maybe trut;Good morning. You are t girl for me.quot;

    No, s believe it. Or even if s not  to talk to me. Sorry, s be t girl for you, but youre not t could  situation, Id probably go to pieces. Id never recover from ty-ts .

    e pass in front of a floc of roses. I cant bring myself to speak to e ser, and in  e envelope lacking only a stamp. So: Sten somebody a letter, maybe spent t ing, to judge from tain every secret shes ever had.

    I take a ferides and turn: S in the crowd.

    Noly o  properly. tical.

    O ed quot;Once upon a timequot; and ended quot;A sad story, dont you t;

    Once upon a time, teen and teen.  unusually  especially beautiful. t an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all t ts t some girl for t miracle actually happened.

    One day t.

    quot;t; ;Ive been looking for you all my life. You may not believe t youre t girl for me.quot;

    quot;And you,quot; so ;are t boy for me, exactly as Id pictured you in every detail. Its like a dream.quot;

    t on a park bencold eacories er  lonely anymore. t ot a  is to find and be found by your 100% perfect ots a miracle, a cosmic miracle.

    As t and talked, iny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in ts: as it really all rigo come true so easily?

    And so, ion, to t;Lets test ourselves - just once. If ime, some fail. And  ones,  do you t;

    quot;Yes,quot; s;t is exactly w we s;

    And so ted, so t, and o t.

    test tterly unnecessary. taken it, because truly   t. But it o kno e proceeded to toss them unmercifully.

    One er, boterrible inluenza, and after drifting for  all memory of ty as the young D. h. Lawrences piggy bank.

    ting efforts to acquire once again t qualified to return as full-fledged members of society. ruly upstanding citizens ransfer from one subo anotter at t office. Indeed, times as much as 75% or even 85% love.

    time passed ness, and soon ty-ty.

    One beautiful April morning, in searco start t to east, o send a special-delivery letter,  to , but along treet in tokyo. ter of treet. test gleam of t memories glimmered for t moment in ts. Eac a rumbling in t. And they knew:

    S girl for me.

    boy for me.

    But too s no longer y of fouteen years earlier. it a o the crowd. Forever.

    A sad story, dont you think?

    Yes, ts it, t is w I so her.