From Haruki Murakami's "A Wild Sheep Chase"

A short one-paragraph item in the morning edition

Went home, read in bed for an hour, turned off the lights, and slept

"I'm going to live to be twenty-five," she said, "then die."

Later

Different people

She pursed her lips, then relaxed

Hands back into our coat pockets and slowly walked back to the apartment

Exactly where she lived, what she did to get by, nobody knew

End up sleeping with that guy

Potted plant

Clean through, cover to cover

Heater and checked the clock

A friend rang me up and read it to me

She shook her head

"Everytime we come here, I feel like we're on a picnic."