"It was the first time that Junko felt a certain 'something'...."

"...as she watched the flames of a bonfire: "something" deep down, a "wad" of feeling, she might have called it, because it was too raw, too heavy, too real to be called an idea. It coursed through her body and vanished, leaving behind a sweet-sad, chest-gripping, strange sort of feeling. For a time after it had gone, she had gooseflesh on her arms."    Excerpt from the short story 'Landscape with Flatiron' by Haruki Murakami.