A catch of breath, a creak of wood and a shadow going thump in the night. . . . Fascination for the spooky and inexplicable perhaps bubbles more intensely in Japan than anywhere else, even in Amityville -- especially during Japanese ghost season, the hot month of August. Is what follows a "Flactured Fairy Tale"? Or just a Kanto urban legend, thinly disguised? Or is it some other fright, nestled deep within the bosoms of frail and distrustful relationships?
. . . She said she would marry him if he would buy her a house. A big house with rooms to catch the breeze and a yard with space to run. She said she could not live in the beehive cubicles of Tokyo or with the neighbors so close that their French windows could exchange kisses.
He said he would hunt, although he lacked money and had no means to generate more. Yet he feared losing her, so each day he traveled to different realtors, always farther and farther from the city and his workplace.