FujiWhen I knew Kay, she used to say she lived three blocks from Tokyo. That is, we lived three blocks from the train. Take the train all the way out to the airport, take a flight to anywhere. We would stand on the bridge over the expressway and watch the passing traffic. "One day, I'll leave," she told me. "Get on a jet, fly away. I'll walk down Harajuku. I'll watch the sunrise over Mt. Fuji, someday." She walked down Paris runways. Her face sold perfume and champagne. Now, I look for her in the lights of the city, watch the jets come and go. Who knows where she's living now? The trains run everywhere.
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