It started with a telephone call, just like any other day.
I’m Kenji, Kenji Harada. Everyone calls me Ken. I take
photos. It’s my job. I take photos for newspapers, for anybody
who wants to buy them. I take photos of famous people.
I have a Nikon camera and a darkroom in my flat.
Sometimes work is good, sometimes it’s bad.
Like I said, every day starts with a telephone call from
Tokai Photo Agency. They buy my photos and sell
them around the world. Sometimes they give me a lot
of money for my photos but sometimes they give me
very little.
It was Thursday, 8.30 in the morning. Work was bad.
It was often bad in January, February and March. It
was April now, but it was also bad. My wife wasn’t
happy. She wanted money. She always wanted money.
I answered the telephone. It was the boss of Tokai
Photo Agency. His name’s Kenzaburo Yoshimoto. It’s
a big name for a small man. A very small man.
‘Go to the Tokyo Garden Hotel at 10.30,’ Yoshimoto
said. He never said ‘good morning’ and he never said
‘please’.