"Hey, Watanabe, could you bring out another glass?"
"Sure," I said. "But what for?"
"We're going to have our own funeral for Naoko, just the two of us. One that's not so sad."
When I handed her the glass, Reiko filled it to the brim and set it on the stone lantern in the garden. Then she sat on the veranda, leaning against a pillar, guitar in her arms, and smoked a cigarette.
"And now could you bring out a box of matches? Make it the biggest one you can find."
I brought out an economy-size box of kitchen matches and sat down next to her.
"Now what I want you to do is lay down a match every time I play a song, just set them in a row. I'm going to play every song I can think of."

Haruki Murakami

24 tracks