On seeing the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning, by Haruki Murakami, illustrated by Steph Tai.

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 good-looking. 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.

The first thing I wondered when I heard about the recent earthquake in Japan was, is Haruki Murakami okay? He is, but a lot of other people are not. Why not donate to the Red Cross or some other charitable organization?

I guess it speaks to my priorities that I would first worry about an author when natural disaster strikes, but I will be terribly sad when there’s no more Murakami to read. I love his novels (especially The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and Kafka on the Shore), and even though I think he’s an uneven short story writer, many of them are wonderful. I would link to U.F.O. in Kushiro, the story that appears in the most recent issue of the New Yorker and was inspired by the 1995 earthquake in Kobe, but you have to have a subscription to read it. Instead, I found an illustrated story which I liked more.

Click through for the entire thing.