ObakeOBAKEObake
There’s a smell that I recall when I think of Kanamori. It was pervasive in the air the first time we met, on a warm September day. I think it came from the persimmon trees in the neighbourhood in Kansai where he lived. I’d come to Japan to teach English for a year, and his younger sister was a student of mine. Kanamori had been there, slumped in the porch, lazily strumming ‘Layla’ on a battered guitar.
“Hey girl” he’d drawled, in the strange L.A Valley girl style English he’d picked up from the movies. “I’ve heard all about you!” He patted the space
KnifeKnifeKnife
Knife. Fork. Spoon. Knife. Fork. Spoon. It’s important that I get the table right. Jug. Cup. Mug. Cup. Put it thirty degrees to the knife. Can’t stop, can’t diverge from this task, or I’ll come apart too soon. I swoop over to the hob and attack the beans’, noting that the tissue I wound around my finger when I cut it slicing the bread is already saturated a lush tulip red. Tomatoes. Shit, the tomatoes are spitting out crimson globs of juice everywhere. Red drops all over the grained marble surfaces. I mop up the stains, speculating whether it’s my own blood or the juice from the tomatoes
The DryadThe Dryad The Dryad appears in Greek mythology as a female tree spirit. Normally considered to be very shy but beautiful creatures, there were several varieties. I choose to focus on the hamadryads who were an integral part of their trees, such that if the tree died, the hamadryad associated with it died as well. For these reasons, dryads and the Greek gods punished any mortals who harmed trees without first propitiating the tree-nymphs.The Dryad
Karla was a drummer. As such, she was well attuned to the balance of power between noise and silence. In her rhythms she held a spell, commanding others to sway and shuffle, oblivious of th
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"I'm a firm believer in the ruling class. Especially since I rule"
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Blow up the universe button, DO NOT PRESS!!!
You'd be suprised how many people press that button...
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