The Train Came Out Of The Long

The Road Was Frozen. The Village Lay Quiet Under The Cold Sky. Komako Hitched Up The Skirt Of Her Kimono And Tucked It Into Her Obi. The Moon Shone Like A Blade Frozen In Blue Ice.

I Wonder What The Retirement Age Is In The Novel Business. The Day You Die.

Put Your Soul In The Palm Of My Hand For Me To Look At, Like A Crystal Jewel. I'll Sketch It In Words.

A Poetess Who Had Died Young Of Cancer Had Said In One Of Her Poems That For Her, On Sleepless Nights, 'the Night Offers Toads And Black Dogs And Corpses Of The Drowned.

The Woman Was Silent, Her Eyes On The Floor. Shimamura Had Come To A Point Where He Knew He Was Only Parading His Masculine Shamelessness, And Yet It Seemed Likely Enough That The Woman Was Familiar With The Failing And Need Not Be Shocked By It. He Looked At Her. Perhaps It Was The Rich Lashes Of The Downcast Eyes That Made Her Face Seem Warm And Sensuous. She Shook Her Head Very Slightly, And Again A Faint Blush Spread Over Her Face.