sharpeakeinthesquarebesidetheharbor,strippedthehaplessheronaked,andloweredhimontoit.Theweightofhisbodydrovethestakethroughhisanusaherestofhisbodyuntilitfinallycameoutofhismouth?anincrediblyslow,excruciatingwaytodie.Thestatuewaserectedowherethisposedtohavehappened.Whenitwasfirstbuilt,itmusthavebeenimpressive,butnoiththeseawind,dust,andseagulldroppings,voncouldbarelymakeoutthemaures.Thelocalshardlygavetheshabbystatueapassingglandforhisparttheherolookedasthoughhedturnedhisbathepeople,theisland,theworld.

    WhenIzumiandIsatatouroutdoorcafe,drinkingcoffeeorbeer,aimlesslygazingattheboatintheharborandatthefar-offTurkishhills,weweresittingattheedgeofEurope.Thewindwasthewindattheedgeoftheworld.Aninescapableretrocolorfilledtheplace.ItmademefeelasifIwerebeingquiet1yswa11owedupbyanaliey,somethingfnandjustoutofreach,vagueyetstrangelygentle.Andtheshadowofthatsubstancecoloredthefaces,theeyes,theskinofthepeoplegatheredintheharbor.

    Attimes,IcouldntgraspthefactthatIartofthisse.NomatterhowmuchItookintheseryaroundme,nomatterhowmuchIbreathedintheair,therewasnaniebetweenmeandallthis.

    Twomonthsbefore,Ihadbeenlivingwithmywifeandourfour-year-o1dsoninathree-bedroomapartmentinUnoki,inTokyo.Notaspaciousplace,justyourbasialapartment.MywifeandIhadourownbedroom,sodidourson,andtheremainingroomservedasmystudy.Theapartmentwasquiet,withaniceview.Onweekend,thethreeofuswouldtakewa1kalongthebanksoftheTamaRiver.Inspring,thecherrytreesbytheriverwouldblossom,andIdputmysononthebaybike,andwedgoofftow