Where are you guys now?

Isn't there any my cars any of all those many cars?

A classmate who spoke affectionately to me who was not good at English, she drove the Volkswagen beetle. The yellow color of Volkswagen beetle wobbled like dandelion flower in the haze.

Isn't there's place for me to lay down any of all those many buildings?

The sound of the telephone line leading to "Someone's already taken." I ran excitedly when someone said "It's available," but it was a cry that often came out in sighs, turning to disappointment over the poor apartment environment.

A white and elegant face woman, who fighted with her husband and left the house. She was a roommate. She sat for a long time with her hair always turn it up and looking at her face in the mirror. My face with freckles and blemishes used to wait for her to leave in front of the mirror to see if the blemishes were bigger or smaller. Did her husband come and take her? No? I have a hazy memory.

I used to sit in Washington Square Park and watched people passing by. A lonely woman like me came up to me and became my friend. She was married to a U.S. soldier stationed in South Korea and had lived in a rural area in Ohio. She had fled to New York after she was caught adored a short Korean man who was teaching taekwondo. She worked at night and attended a language school during the day.

I asked her for a job. I went to see where she told me, but it was a bar near Chinatown. I ran out of the alley like a shadow, leaving behind her black silhouette, which was moving in the dark of the smoky bar.

I remember sitting in the living room of a luxury condo in West Village, Manhattan, There was luxurious black furniture; a desk lay out in a diagonal line away from the wall, and a green chair. It was a Japanese friend's apartment. I envied her having an affluent life abroad. I was shocked by the story of an apartment she got from her father's friend, married man. She was the mistress of her father's friend.

Why was my mind so confused as I left her apartment and passed the house where the author of "The Last Leaf Bird" lived and wrote?

Where did they live, who met in the early days of New York and disappearing like a comet?