Haruki Murakami: On seeing the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning
(Above is short film fully based on this story)
One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo's fashionable Harujuku
neighborhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl. Tell you the truth, she's not that goodlooking. She doesn't stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn't young, either must be near thirty, not even close to a "girl," properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She's the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there's a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert. Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you're drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I'll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.
