I Cracked the Grandma Code with Chocolate and Rice Balls
When at first someone politely declines your chocolate or tea, try, try again—but sneakier.
When at first someone politely declines your chocolate or tea, try, try again—but sneakier.
The trains will go regardless of whether or not I am on them.
The air on the platform is heavy under the city. The train arrives in a pungent, metallic breeze. No seats now.
The first time I showered in the public space, my entrance came as no surprise to anyone but me.
Doubt and faith, though mutually contradictory, can be gently held together.
There’s no cosmic explanation, for better or worse.
I’ve come to appreciate this about Haruko. When I would rather stick to polite smiles and communication mediated by Shiki, she speaks Japanese at me and throws in English words, gestures, and images until I understand.
I got naked with a bunch of old men and tried to figure out how to wash my booty without insulting anyone, and that pretty much sums up my trip to Japan.