Super-Frog Saves Tokyo

Today when I awoke from a nap the faceless man was there before me.

One bright April afternoon in 1978, I attended a baseball game at Jingu Stadium in downtown Tokyo.

In the bar room of Jack & Charlie’s 21 Club, toys dangled from the ceiling.

A bank robbery. A hostage drama. A stairwell full of police o¬fficers on their way to storm an apartment.

I’m fascinated by the current vogue for posthumous books, and I’m thinking of writing a fake one that could appear to be “posthumous” and “unfinished” when it would, in fact, be perfectly complete.

In September 1970, two sites squared off for the title of the center of the world: Piccadilly Circus, in London, and Dam Square, in Amsterdam.

My house burned down on an autumn night almost a year ago.

According to the statistics, on this last day of the year a man of eighty-five has approximately an 80 per cent chance of reaching 31 December 2015.

Somewhere on Earth was a village where spring faded into autumn, and after autumn, spring returned once more.

The man hadn’t shown himself for months, but only one person owned that helmet and the red Indian Chief motorbike.

Sydney Something was wrong.

Kiwi the Shih Tzu gets loose on the Thursday before the schools in the district let out for winter break.